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The Urn exerted its power exactly as expected. Under its effect, the Artist’s massive body was forcibly dragged onto the same level as Gao Tian, and all of its rules were temporarily suppressed for the duration of the game.

Tens of thousands of faces closed their eyes simultaneously. It could not directly kill Gao Tian during the game, even with its tens of thousands of Killing Rules.

“It worked.”

Sitting at the same table as the Artist, looking past the endless mountain of human heads, Gao Tian felt a surge of wild joy.

He had originally assumed that out of the Artist’s tens of thousands of rules, a few would likely be able to neutralize the forced pull of a Supernatural Item.

As it turned out, there were none.

It was also possible that under the influence of his Ghost Luck, those rules had contradicted each other once again, creating a bug that canceled them out.

Regardless, as long as the game had started, success or failure didn’t matter. Whether the Urn could actually imprison the Artist in the end was irrelevant. This would stall it for at least ten seconds.

His Ghost Luck was still doing its utmost. The gap in power between a human and a ghost was an impassable chasm; dragging things out to this extent was already a monumental feat.

The game drawn by the Urn this time was very simple.[Coin Toss]

A continuously spinning coin materialized out of thin air between Gao Tian and the endless mountain of human heads. Before the coin stopped spinning, both sides had to call heads or tails. Whoever guessed correctly would win.

The game began.

When the coin reached its fifth rotation, the Artist’s tens of thousands of heads opened their eyes in unison and gave their answer: heads.

Gao Tian knew that the moment he chose tails, the game would end.

His supreme luck was absolute. Even if he chose to stay neutral, the coin would undoubtedly land perfectly on its edge.

However, even though the Artist had given its answer early and the coin had reached its twentieth rotation, Gao Tian remained silent, withholding his own choice.

The reason was simple. If he gave his answer, the game’s duration would end.

Even if he won the game, could the Urn absolutely guarantee the Artist’s imprisonment?

That wasn’t necessarily a sure thing. Even the S-Level Fierce Ghost, the Woman in the Rain, had utterly failed in her attempt to imprison the Artist.

This proved that this monster formed from countless Fierce Ghosts operated on a conceptual priority even higher than a standard S-Level.

The Urn might not successfully contain it. He couldn’t pin all his hopes on a single Supernatural Item.

Gao Tian’s primary goal wasn’t to defeat the Artist; no one expected him to go that far. His objective was simply to stall for as much time as possible, buying room for Old Man Sun to duel Xu Yuan on the outside.

So, he would just keep dragging out the Urn’s game. As long as the coin kept spinning, he wouldn’t call his answer, burning time within the Urn’s domain. This was the most rational choice he could make.

When the coin’s rotations surpassed thirty, Gao Tian still held off, offering no answer.

By the time the coin had spun over fifty times, the Artist had been in the Mirror World for fifty seconds. It was extremely close to the sixty seconds he had agreed upon with Old Man Sun.

It was unbelievable, but he was actually on the verge of succeeding. Relying on Ghost Luck, the Supernatural Die, the Woman in the Rain, and the Urn, he had managed to stall this incomprehensible natural disaster in the Mirror World for this long.

When the coin exceeded eighty rotations, the time reached fifty-seven seconds. This was already an acceptable duration, but he still wanted to see if he could drag it out for just a few seconds more.

Right at that moment, the Ghost Luck burning above Gao Tian’s head accelerated rapidly. It was as if something terrible was about to happen, threatening to burn away all his remaining good fortune in one fell swoop.

It seemed the Urn’s game duration was reaching its limit. If he dragged it out any further, he would be judged for passive play.

Quit while you’re ahead. Without hesitation, Gao Tian chose tails.

Click. The coin hit the ground.

Tails.

Exactly as expected. With his Ghost Luck, he had never lost a single game of chance.

As the crack in the Urn opened wide, the punishment for the Artist losing the game was imminent. The endless mountain range of human heads remained completely motionless, lying lazily across the long white path. It seemed entirely unaware of its impending fate.

Could this Supernatural Item actually imprison the Artist?

Gao Tian watched nervously.

One second passed.

Three seconds passed.

Five seconds passed.

With a sudden snap, the Urn inexplicably sealed itself shut. It was as if it had completed its task.

How—how was that possible?

Although Gao Tian had mentally prepared himself for this outcome, seeing such a shocking scene unfold right before his eyes still made his scalp tingle, leaving him so stunned he could barely breathe.

The Artist’s massive, miles-long body was still sprawled out in the outside world, completely unaffected and unbothered. The Urn had just closed on its own, imprisoning absolutely nothing. Was it playing blind with its eyes wide open?

This had never happened with the Urn before. Even an S-Level Fierce Ghost like the Woman in the Rain could be obediently imprisoned.

“Rule 457: Pipe Dream.

“Delay the effect caused by a Supernatural Item or Killing Rule by ten years.

“Any item effect or rule that nullifies the activation of Pipe Dream will also be delayed by ten years.”

At that moment, Gao Tian didn’t know about the existence of the Pipe Dream rule. But he wasn’t stupid, either. The instant he saw the Urn automatically close, he knew its imprisonment measures had failed. The Ghost Luck above his head was burning faster and faster. Without a second word, he turned and sprinted desperately down the long white path.

The one minute he had agreed upon with Old Man Sun was up. Gao Tian’s biggest priority now was ensuring his own survival.

Even if the Artist dropped its grudge against him, returned to the battlefield in Shanghai City, and killed Old Man Sun, Gao Tian absolutely couldn’t be blamed. He had truly done his best. It was Old Man Sun’s own fault for talking such a big game and overestimating his own strength.

Under the effects of the Black Suit, Gao Tian’s physical attributes surpassed those of the world’s top athletes, allowing him to sprint hundreds of meters away in just a few seconds.

He still didn’t feel safe. His Ghost Luck was burning at a terrifying pace, which meant the Final Decree rule was on the verge of breaking through. When it was released, all of his Supernatural Items would be rendered utterly ineffective, and even the Supernatural Die’s immortality would be abolished. At that point, death would be a certainty.

Gao Tian immediately activated the Black Leather Shoes on his feet and flew toward the black, endless abyss outside the long white path.

With the Artist’s bloated and cumbersome body, Gao Tian was betting it wouldn’t dare chase him into the abyss of the Mirror World.

The instant Gao Tian took flight, the tens of thousands of faces on the Artist’s body seemed to finally complete a total mobilization of their collective consciousness. In perfect unison, they all turned to stare at the little black dot of Gao Tian retreating.

“Rule 3: Final Decree.”

The feeling of being stared at by the Artist’s tens of thousands of dead eyes once again... how to describe it?

Despair.

Nothing but absolute despair.

All the Supernatural Items on his body were scrapped. Plunging from an omnipotent supernatural being down to a mere mortal felt like suddenly becoming a cripple. His entire body felt shockingly hollow, completely incapable of doing anything. For those few seconds, he was like a helpless infant, entirely at the mercy of others.

Gao Tian’s immortality was disabled.

The Ghost Card could not be activated.

The effects of the Black Suit and Black Leather Shoes vanished.

Having flown halfway across the abyss of the Mirror World, he plummeted straight down into the endless depths below.

His descent kept accelerating. The surroundings grew darker and darker until he could see nothing and grasp nothing. At the same time, grotesque mutations erupted across Gao Tian’s body. Countless tiny mouths filled with sharp fangs slowly tore open across his back. Beneath his skin, his internal organs took on a life of their own, scrambling over each other as they tried to tear free from his torso. An invisible black hand materialized above his head, clamped down on his skull, and began forcefully squeezing to crush it.

He had no idea which of the Artist’s Killing Rules he had triggered this time. Regardless, even breathing was a mistake right now. All he could do was die.

As his body plummeted endlessly downward, he was about to sink into the dark abyss beyond the long path of the Mirror World. No one knew what lay at the bottom; not even Old Man Sun or Xu Yuan had ever been down here. Anyone who fell in would likely never climb back up in this lifetime.

With a sickening crunch, Gao Tian’s head exploded. His internal organs burst outward, leaving behind only an empty husk that continued its free fall through the darkness.

Plummeting toward the forgotten bottom of the world.

As he fell further into the abyss beyond the long white path, the distance increased until he faded away into a tiny black dot and disappeared. Standing at the edge of the path, the tens of thousands of faces on the Artist lost their target. The colossal mountain of heads shifted and writhed, slowly retreating.

This desperate, life-risking leap into the bottomless dark pit of the Mirror World had ironically saved Gao Tian’s life.

Without the Artist’s gaze fixed on him, the effect of the Final Decree naturally dissipated.

They were back. All the Supernatural Items on his body that had been temporarily disabled returned to him.

First was his Ghost Luck. Although there was very little left, a sliver of it still remained, shrouding the space above Gao Tian’s head.

Next was the Ghost Card. After placing the ninth card upon his soul, Gao Tian’s headless, hollow body began to regenerate flesh and blood.

The Supernatural Die’s immortality did not recover. It was likely a single-use effect; once interrupted by the Artist, it couldn’t be resumed.

The Black Suit, the Black Leather Shoes, the Wind Attendant Buddha—all of them returned.

Upon confirming that he had escaped the Artist’s line of sight, the resurrected Gao Tian didn’t hesitate for a second. He activated the power of the Black Card in his pocket.

Earlier on the long white path, he hadn’t dared to use the Black Card recklessly. The Artist’s Final Decree could take effect at any moment, and if the two occurred simultaneously, the Apartment Black Card would be nullified.

Now, however, he had broken free from the Artist’s range of vision. He could finally escape.

His mission was complete.

He wanted to go home.

The Artist, the Woman in the Rain, the bottom of the Mirror World, and the fierce battle still raging outside the mirror between Xu Yuan and Old Man Sun—none of it had anything to do with Gao Tian anymore.

All he wanted to do was return to the Apartment, take a nice hot shower, and get some sleep.

Preferably sleeping for three whole days and nights without anyone bothering him, just sleeping until he naturally woke up.

Still falling into the abyss of the Mirror World, Gao Tian instantly transformed into a black hole and was teleported away.

When he opened his eyes again, he was back in the familiar first-floor lobby of the Living Apartment.

The place was exactly as it had been when Xia Ta and the others had first set out. The freshly brewed tea on the coffee table, the open notebook, the small crumpled ball of paper tossed haphazardly next to the trash can—there was no sign that anyone had touched a thing.

None of the people who had gone out, like Xia Ta and Jiang Yang, had returned yet either.

On the wall, the TV screen was still on. However, it only showed black-and-white static, crackling with white noise. There was no news, no recorded footage of the Woman in the Rain. Nothing at all.

Dragging his exhausted body, Gao Tian walked forward aimlessly and collapsed onto the sofa.

Even if the outside world was being turned upside down and the Great Dao itself was being ground to dust, the inside of the Living Apartment maintained its cozy atmosphere, completely unchanged.

In the Mirror World, he had stalled the Artist for a total of one minute and two seconds.

He had already exceeded his agreement with Old Man Sun.

Of course, the instant Gao Tian returned to the Living Apartment, the Apartment’s suppressive effect helped dispel the Artist’s name-calling curse on him.

Now that the Artist had lost its target of hatred in Gao Tian, it would likely return straight to the battlefield in Shanghai City to continue its unfinished war.

By then, he just hoped Old Man Sun had already taken care of Xu Yuan.