I Am Not The God Of Drama Chapter 131

[ … words ]

Having followed Han Meng for so long, that sense of duty as an enforcer had long been engraved into his heart. He knew if Han Meng were here, he would never choose to flee… but even if he stayed, what could he possibly do? And besides—this was Aurora City!

He had yearned for Aurora City his entire life, a dream perpetually out of reach. Now, a path straight into it lay before him. How could he refuse? How could he possibly refuse?!

But if he truly fled into Aurora City… how could he ever face Han Meng again?

“Brother Jie?”

Tan Ming saw the conflict raging within Xi Renjie. After a long hesitation, he finally spoke up, “Brother Jie, don’t pressure yourself too much. Protecting civilians is an enforcer’s duty, yes… but so is obeying orders. Whatever you choose, I’ll follow you.”

Hearing this, Xi Renjie fell silent.

He stood in the fog-shrouded darkness, his black trench coat blending into the shadows.

“…Help… me…”

A faint, barely audible whisper cut through the stillness.

The voice came from an empty lot. As they drew nearer, Xi Renjie realized this was where the clinic had abandoned its patients during the day—rows of critically injured individuals left to silently await death.

Some had been carried away by family members. The rest were either loners with no one left or those whose entire families had perished, leaving them unclaimed.

Hours later, most here had already died without a sound. But a few still clung to life… Some called out weakly from pain, others from despair, their voices frail as mosquito hums.

Xi Renjie located the source of the voice and hurried over.

A figure drenched in blood and filth lay twisted on the ground, bite marks covering his body. One eye had been crushed, leaving only a hollow, bloodied socket. His bones were likely shattered beyond recognition—at first glance, indistinguishable from a corpse.

“How are you holding up?” Tan Ming asked, unable to hide his pity.

“…Save… me…”

Hearing a response, the corpse-like figure twitched his fingers and legs, his bloodied face contorting with desperate hope.

As Tan Ming moved to lift him, a hand gripped his shoulder. He turned to see Xi Renjie staring at the man with complex emotions, shaking his head.

“You shouldn’t have answered him.”

“…Why?”

“He’s already dying… No one can save him. Giving him hope now will only make his death more painful.”

Tan Ming froze. “Then what should I do?”

Xi Renjie didn’t answer. Instead, his bloodshot eyes hardened with resolve… He stepped forward, drew his gun, and pressed the barrel against the man’s forehead.

“…Save… save me… please… save…” The eyeless figure continued to beg, his body surging with a final burst of strength as he tried to sit up—until his forehead met cold steel. He stilled.

“Thank you,” Xi Renjie said, his voice eerily calm. “…Now I know what to do.”

BANG—!

A gunshot shattered the night.

As the figure collapsed, Xi Renjie slowly stood. Gripping the still-smoking gun, he walked through this abandoned hellscape of despair.

BANG! BANG! BANG—!!

Gunfire rang out in rapid succession. The black trench coat moved from one barely living soul to the next, pulling the trigger like Death’s scythe reaping the hopeless. In their final moments, their faces showed not pain… but relief.

With each life he ended, Xi Renjie’s resolve solidified. He was a scavenger now, clearing away the rotting flesh humanity had discarded.

When the gun finally clicked empty, the lot fell silent once more… Save for Xi Renjie and Tan Ming, not a single living soul remained.

“Brother Jie…” Tan Ming’s voice was thick with emotion.

“Useless mercy is poison to the desperate.” Xi Renjie turned, his gaze piercing the fog as if staring straight at the towering city beneath the auroras. “Perhaps… Aurora City is right.”

“Then you mean to…”

“Gather the enforcers on the list. Have them wait for me at the station.”

“…Understood.” Tan Ming took a deep breath and nodded firmly. Then, as if remembering something, he added, “What about Chen Ling?”

Xi Renjie fell silent again. After what felt like an eternity, he closed his eyes.

“…Tell him to come see me.”

—

In his dreams, Chen Ling slowly opened his eyes.

Once again, he stood upon that twisting path stretching into the sky, its end a distant star—his home.

“Here again.”

Looking down, he saw he had already ascended to the second step of this path. Though only one step higher than before, he had risen significantly from the abyss below.

If he looked closely, the star seemed slightly nearer…

“Next is the third step.”

Ahead, another towering step loomed several meters away. This one was far taller and more distant than the last.

According to Han Meng, advancing from first to second tier typically took one to two years. Second to third took even longer—three years minimum. Some with weaker aptitudes might remain stuck at second tier indefinitely.

This alone proved the difficulty spike between tiers two and three.

Chen Ling attempted to step forward, but his body felt leaden. No matter how he strained, he could barely shift half a centimeter… His current mental strength was still too weak.

At the same time, his gaze fell upon the stretch between the second and third steps. Faint text was inscribed along the nearest portion… with another line further ahead.

“Advancing to third tier requires more than one performance?” Chen Ling murmured in surprise.

The distant line was impossible to decipher from his current position. Squinting, he focused on the nearest text, straining to make it out. After a long while, he whispered uncertainly:

“[Before an audience of at least one hundred, deliver a breathtaking exit.]“