Chapter 8 The 'Door'

"Lunatic could kill everyone here. I could kill everyone here too. Would that be enough to prove... That I am Lunatic of Central Street? Well..." Hubert suddenly snapped back to reality. When he looked up, the area in front of him was completely empty. Everyone had long since vanished without a trace. Even the truck had been abandoned, left standing alone in the open space. "Why did they all leave? If they're gone, who am I supposed to prove myself to?" As his mind cleared, his gaze sharpened, losing its previous dazed state. "I really need to prepare more witnesses next time." A faint smile curled at the corners of Hubert's lips. He bent down and picked up a flashlight that someone had dropped in their panic, then walked toward the truck's cargo hold. Swinging the doors open, he was immediately met with a row of terrified eyes staring back at him. His smile widened. "Remember my face. My name is Hubert. I'm Lunatic from Central Street." "Don't you dare forget it," As he spoke, he clicked on the flashlight and shone it directly onto his face. The so-called ruthless bandits swore they would never forget that face for the rest of their lives! In their minds, only one phrase remained—The Smiling Devil. These criminals—who were infamous even outside the Encten—were now sitting obediently in a row, their bodies bound in rope. Like well-behaved schoolchildren, they nodded in unison. "What's my name?" Hubert gazed at them warmly. "Mmmph! Mmmph!" They all answered in perfect sync, despite their gagged mouths. "Good. Don't forget. And if you ever meet someone else, make sure to describe my face to them. See ya!" Hubert waved at them enthusiastically before turning around and leaving, his departure leaving behind a truck full of criminals exchanging helpless glances. If not for the absolute terror Hubert had instilled in them—and the fact that their mouths were stuffed—they would have loved nothing more than to shout after him: "Could you at least untie us before you leave, you bastard?!" But in the end, all they could do was stew in silence. Eventually, they huddled together, trying to help each other untie the ropes. The entire truck swayed rhythmically with their efforts, creating a bizarre scene. Meanwhile— Hubert arrived at the warehouse entrance. With a forceful push— a piercing creak rang out as the warehouse doors slowly swung open. The warehouse was roughly 250 square meters, dimly lit by a few yellowish lamps that barely illuminated the surroundings. In the corner, several figures huddled on the ground. At the sound of the warehouse door opening, they instinctively trembled. But when they saw that the newcomer was a stranger, they froze for a moment. Hubert ignored them and walked deeper into the warehouse. The moment he passed, those people sprang to their feet and bolted out like madmen, disappearing into the night in the blink of an eye. "This should be... the door." Hubert stood at the deepest part of the warehouse. Around him were various aged objects, long abandoned and covered in a thick layer of dust. In the corner, a dismantled wooden door lay discarded, carelessly thrown aside. Under the dim light, faint patterns could still be seen on its surface, though most were obscured by dust. "Hmm?" Staring at the wooden door, Hubert suddenly frowned, his face turning slightly pale. Flashes of images flickered rapidly through his mind, the speed increasing until they blurred together. The overwhelming sensation felt like his brain was about to explode. Breathing heavily, a drop of sweat slid down his forehead. He reached out, gripping a nearby shelf for support to keep himself from collapsing. At the same time, the seemingly ordinary wooden door trembled slightly. "So much...pain. It's been so long... since I've felt pain like this. Why... why isn't this scene in my dreams?" Even in such a state, Hubert remained conscious, his bloodshot eyes locked onto the wooden door. Gradually, the chaotic flashes in his mind began to slow. Though still fragmented, they were finally clear enough to make out. The images froze—like a slideshow. First Image: The scene mirrored reality, except the Hubert in the image looked much healthier. He seemed exhausted as he pushed open the wooden door in front of him. As the door swung open, a blinding golden light flooded the warehouse. Faint, ethereal music echoed from beyond. On the other side of the door—was another world! Golden palaces, jade rooftops, celestial cranes soaring through the sky—an awe-inspiring paradise. An elderly man with a kind expression stood atop the clouds, his hands clasped behind his back. He smiled at Hubert and reached out, gently pressing his palm toward Hubert's forehead across the distance. The image cut off. Second Image: The world had changed! The Path to Immortality had opened! All living beings in the mortal realm could now ascend. Even by simply looking up, one could see magnificent celestial palaces and towering immortal mountains rising above the clouds. And Hubert— He had become the most gifted individual in the world. The once-despised Lunatic of the Black Streets had suddenly turned into a figure everyone admired. In the vision— Hubert stood proudly above the vast ocean, countless spectators watching from afar. With a smile, he swung his sword downward— The sea split apart! A towering tidal wave rose to the heavens! Third Image: From a distant celestial palace, a heavenly staircase descended—stretching all the way to Hubert's feet! By now, Hubert had reached middle age. Above, graceful celestial maidens danced in mid-air, playing instruments and scattering flower petals, awaiting his arrival in the immortal realm. In the distance— Cultivators gazed at him with open admiration. Mortals prostrated themselves, worshiping him as a deity. At this moment— The images cut off. Hubert snapped back to reality, the pain in his head gradually subsiding. The wooden door stopped trembling, and the faint glow it had emitted faded away, returning to its ordinary, unremarkable appearance. The images froze. Everything returned to normal. It was worth noting that, at this very moment, Hubert's expression and posture were identical to those in the first image—at the very beginning. In other words— The door was right in front of him. If he followed the vision and simply pushed it open, the future would unfold exactly as he had seen—he would become immortal. As unbelievable as it all sounded, after what he had just experienced, such an absurd notion suddenly felt entirely plausible. "It does seem like a good path," he murmured. "Unmatched power, a perfect ending." "But—" Hubert stared at the door, a slow, almost amused smile curling at the corners of his lips. "According to the vision, right now, my hand should already be on the door." "But it's not. If what I saw was truly the future, then at this moment, the future has already changed." His whisper echoed clearly through the silent warehouse. "You've been trying so hard to prove to me that what I saw was the future. That the future is unchangeable." "Heh." Hubert chuckled. It was an eerie laugh. He took slow, deliberate steps toward the wooden door, resting one hand lightly on its frame. As if sensing his presence, the door quivered again, almost as though it was expressing joy.