Chapter 892: Mr. Duan Entering The Eighth World

Meanwhile.

Tens of thousands of kilometers away from the Free Federation lay the Far North.

This was a forbidden zone for life in the present world, with temperatures plummeting to minus one hundred degrees year-round, and frost capable of shredding high-tier shields fluttering in the air.

The frigid storm raged, and the Law of Space also became sluggish.

Looking out, there were only boundless glacier faults and ice chasms.

No exotic beasts could survive here, and even fire-type Professionals above level 70 would be frozen into ice sculptures within minutes if they stepped foot inside.

However, right on this dead ice sheet, a middle-aged man wearing a black formal suit walked over slowly.

He was thinly dressed, leaning on a black cane, his steps calm amidst the severe cold.

When the frigid storm approached within three meters of him, it instantly subsided and disintegrated, turning into nothingness.

His leather shoes stepped on the ten-thousand-year-old mysterious ice, producing a crisp sound.

Finally, he stopped and stood upon a piece of extreme ice.

Mr. Duan raised his head, gazing at the looming outline of the ruins deep beneath the ice at his feet.

"Finally, the last stop."

The Eighth World.

It was once the most glorious world of the Human Race.

Mr. Duan's gaze penetrated the ice, looking at the ruin below known as the "Throne of Despair".

"Now, it is also the most crucial step of all my plans."

He had crossed the long years, laying out plans across countless epochs.

From the first to The Seventh World, he regarded the top experts of the old era as backup batteries, devouring their Origin.

As for this Eighth World, the remnant souls of the experts who back then followed him to sweep across exotic beasts but ultimately betrayed him were sleeping here.

As long as he completely devoured the power here, his incomplete high-dimensional divine persona could be thoroughly completed.

By then, he would possess the absolute power to reshape the underlying logic of the Universe.

Mr. Duan raised his cane.

Without driving any magic power or releasing any skills, he simply let it fall downwards casually.

The bottom of the cane gently tapped the ice surface.

"Clang."

A crisp sound exploded across the ice sheet.

Accompanied by the soft sound, a High-Dimensional Law fluctuation poured along the tip of the cane into the ten-thousand-year-old mysterious ice.

The ice surface, which even Forbidden Spells could not shake, emitted a cracking sound of "snap".

The ice surface slowly split open.

A huge crack spread toward the underground.

Immediately after, the extreme ice melted rapidly, turning into energy that dissipated into the air.

In the blink of an eye, a downward extreme ice staircase formed beneath Mr. Duan's feet, leading straight underground.

At the end of the staircase, the vortex at the entrance of the ruins flickered accordingly.

That was a huge vortex emitting a dim blue light, swirling with chaotic Law of Space and time fragments.

Mr. Duan looked calm as he stepped into the vortex.

High-dimensional power enveloped him, his figure distorted in the vortex, and then completely disappeared.

The wind and snow of the Far North still howled, as if nothing had happened.

When he reappeared, he was already in another time and space.

The scene before his eyes had undergone earth-shaking changes.

There were no more biting cold winds and frost; they were replaced by bright light.

Here there were blue skies and white clouds, and the sunlight spilled onto his body, bringing a long-lost comfort.

Mr. Duan found himself at a huge crossroads.

Beneath his feet was a flat and wide asphalt road, with white crosswalks clearly visible.

Traffic lights flashed alternately above the intersection, making a rhythmic ticking sound.

Traffic flowed endlessly.

Various cars sped past on the road, the roar of engines, the sound of tires rubbing against the ground, and occasional honks intertwined into a vibrant urban symphony.

Pedestrians came and went.

On the sidewalk, office workers in crisp suits hurried on their way, holding unfinished breakfasts in their hands; a young mother pushing a stroller patiently waited for the green light at the intersection, lowering her head to gently tease the child in the cart; there were also young people in sportswear wearing headphones, shuttling through the crowd on skateboards.

On the towering building nearby, an extremely gorgeous big screen was embedded.

The big screen was broadcasting the latest fashion advertisements of the season, with vivid colors and sound clearly spreading throughout the entire neighborhood.

Just at this moment, several young girls passed by Mr. Duan, chatting and laughing.

They wore youthful and glamorous dresses, holding cups of bubbling, chilled milk tea in their hands.

"Have you bought the movie tickets for tonight yet?"

"They were bought long ago! I heard that newly released comedy is especially hilarious."

"Great, let's go eat barbecue after watching the movie!"

The crisp laughter of the young girls echoed in the air, their faces brimming with heartfelt relaxation and happiness.

There was no fear of survival, no worry about exotic beasts, and even less the shadow of death that could descend at any time.

Everything looked so harmonious and peaceful.

Mr. Duan stood at the street corner, quietly watching all of this.

He restrained his aura, blending into the bustling metropolis like an ordinary passerby.

Looking at the carefree pedestrians, a rare trace of nostalgia appeared in his eyes.

This was the spiritual projection of The Eighth World, the deepest memory left at the bottom layer of the Law by the epoch he personally destroyed.

"How wonderful."

Mr. Duan murmured softly.

He took a deep breath of the air.

There was no smoke of gunpowder and bloodshed, only car exhaust and the aroma of coffee from the street corner.

This was a world without exotic beasts.

Ordinary people could plan for the future and enjoy life without having to frantically upgrade their Rank just to survive, nor struggling on the edge of life and death.

This kind of peace was something the humans of the present world wouldn't even dare to dream of.

Mr. Duan tightened his grip on his cane.

He had destroyed The Eighth World, killed countless people, and shouldered the infamy across epochs, but only he himself knew what the ultimate goal was.

"Perhaps it won't be long before a world like this can be created by me."

As long as he devoured the final Origin and overthrew the Heavenly Dao System, he could build an eternal epoch truly belonging to the Human Race upon the ruins.

A world of eternal peace without exotic beasts.

Just at this moment.

"Squeak—"

A yellow taxi stopped in front of Mr. Duan.

The car window rolled down; the driver was a middle-aged man wearing a gray jacket with wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, looking kind and amiable.

"Friend, taking a cab?"

Mr. Duan looked at the driver, a faint light flashing in the depths of his eyes.

He smiled and nodded, pulled open the back door, and sat inside.

The car door closed, isolating the hustle and bustle.

The taxi restarted and merged into the traffic flow.

The car blew cold wind, the taximeter ticked regularly, and the two fell into a brief silence.

Mr. Duan leaned against the seat, looking at the receding street view outside the window.

After a while, the driver glanced at the rearview mirror and started the conversation first.

"Is this mister's first time here?"

His voice was very peaceful, carrying a driver's enthusiasm.

Mr. Duan didn't turn his head and shook it.

"However, it has also been a long time since I last came."

The driver turned on the blinker and overtook a bus.

"A long time since you last came?"

The driver followed up on the topic.

"Then what are you coming back for?"

This sentence was asked very casually, like inadvertent small talk.

Mr. Duan withdrew his gaze, looked at the back of the man in the driver's seat, and thought for a moment.

"Probably to make a clean break."

As soon as these words were spoken, the atmosphere inside the carriage underwent a subtle change, and the cold wind from the air conditioner seemed to become a bit more biting.

No joy or anger could be seen on the driver's face as he still looked at the road ahead, but he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

Because of the force, his knuckles turned slightly white, and the veins on the back of his hands stood out.

Mr. Duan took in all these actions. He leaned back in his seat and suddenly spoke.

"When driving, you shouldn't think about those miscellaneous matters."

Mr. Duan's voice was very soft.

"Bo Ning."

"I told you before, whatever you do requires focus."

The driver shuddered slightly.

He slammed on the brakes, and the taxi stopped abruptly by the roadside.

He looked at Mr. Duan through the rearview mirror.

"Sir, did you recognize me long ago?"