VESSEL - Extinction Countdown 968: Return of the Void Deity

Tomb, mist, rain.

Ye Shisan jolted awake.

His grandfather knelt beside him, before a gray, solitary tomb.

“Grandpa… Grandpa!”

Grandfather turned, smiling softly. “Shisan, your father died for the country. Your mother’s young—let her go. From now on, it’s just us.”

In Ye Shisan’s eyes, Grandfather was unchanged—his weathered, kind face etched with wrinkles.

A thousand words stirred in Ye Shisan’s heart, but none found voice.

“Shisan, let me tell you a story. It might be eerie, but don’t fear—Grandpa’s here.”

“Legend holds that ancient gods shaped clay and water into figures like themselves. A breath, and they lived… She crafted batch after batch, but it was slow. So, she dipped a vine in mud and swung it. Each splatter on the ground became a person…”

“But, Shisan, have you wondered? If mud splatters could make people, why did the gods labor to shape clay figures? And what differs between those hand-crafted and the splattered ones?”

“There exists a kind of being, like countless mortals—limbs, organs, minds—yet estranged from their kin, fading through time’s vast flow. Long ago, they were called ‘Deity’—earth gods.”

“Once, Deity were mightier than humans, gifted by that divine breath. They achieved what mortals could not. Yet, like humans face birth and death, Deity bore a natural flaw.”

“Flawed Deity, named ‘Void Deity’, were as ordinary humans. Unless told, they might live unaware of their secret. All Void Deity seek their ‘Spirit’.”

“This Spirit is elusive. To a Void Deity, it may be a deed, an object, or a person. Only by finding their Spirit can a Void Deity ascend to true Deity, surpassing all.”

“Yet another path exists—a ‘Pseudo-Spirit’. It, too, can elevate a Void Deity… but it’s uncontrollable. Many Void Deity, bound to a Pseudo-Spirit, turned on each other, driven to madness and death.”

“Perhaps the ascent to Deity is too grueling, or the Spirit too fleeting. Over millennia, Deity nearly vanished, and the remaining Void Deity, severed from their past, became mere mortals.”

“Shisan, our Ye clan were once Deity. But for generations, we failed to find our Spirit, falling to the dust of the common world…”

Grandfather paused, burning a yellow paper before the tomb.

Ye Shisan watched it curl and drift, unmoved by the allure of Deity. “Grandpa, I think being human’s enough.”

Grandfather smiled. “Yes, finding a beloved, raising bright children, surrounded by kin… Being human brings joy. But, Shisan, Deity blood flows in you.”

“Grandpa, I don’t want to be Deity. I want a quiet, ordinary life.”

“Shisan, your path isn’t quiet. From birth, a Pseudo-Spirit clung to you… I tried all to suppress it, found a way, but… such a pity, such a pity…”

“Grandpa, you mean my illness? It’s no illness—just this Pseudo-Spirit haunting me!”

“Shisan, don’t underestimate the Pseudo-Spirit… If I were still alive… If…”

“Grandpa… how do you know you’re—”

A strange wind howled. Grandfather dissolved into mist, scattering.

In the dark woods, odd wheezes echoed, as if something vast and clumsy stirred nearby.

From the tomb, a stranger’s voice cried, “Shisan! Run!”

Ye Shisan truly woke.

Dim lights, sweet scents, a dreamlike glow unlike a bedroom.

His eyes squinted, barely open. He tried to sit, but his body resisted. As he moved, a small figure in his elbow stirred.

A soft, pale hand brushed his face.

“Uncle Shisan, you awake? Want water?”

Vanilla’s face appeared, her silver hair cascading over Ye Shisan’s face, tickling, fragrant.

Seeing her bandaged forehead, Pork Fat’s twisted face flashed in Ye Shisan’s mind. He sat up, pulling her close, inspecting her. “Vanilla, are you okay?”

Vanilla’s eyes blinked wide. “Uncle Shisan, do you remember days ago?”

“Days? It’s been days?”

Vanilla giggled, feigning fear, diving into his arms. “Uncle, I’m so scared!”

Her aim faltered, smacking Ye Shisan’s forehead. Both clutched their heads, wincing.

“Ow!”

“What’s wrong!?”

Two cries rang out. Amid a flurry, the room’s main light flicked on.

The small room’s decor, lighting, and giant round bed clearly marked it as a so-called love hotel.

What? A love hotel?

“You little imp, sneaking on my man again?”

To Ye Shisan’s right, You Long’er sat up, prying Vanilla off his chest.

To his left, Yi Qing noticed blood seeping through Ye Shisan’s bandage. “Vanilla, I’ve told you—his wound’s unhealed. No roughhousing!”

Vanilla clung to Ye Shisan’s neck. “No! I’m staying with Uncle Shisan!”

Ye Shisan was bewildered. “What… what’s this?”

Three people in bed, including Vanilla? That’s a five-year sentence at least! He couldn’t grasp this wild reality.

Yi Qing pinched him. “You rogue, what’re you thinking?”

You Long’er grinned. “Darling, this inn’s Yi Qing’s arrangement. You can’t recover at home, so we settled you here. We’re next door, taking turns caring for you.”

You Long’er half-lied. The inn was Yi Qing’s doing, but it belonged to YiQueen’s company.

Ye Shisan was too dangerous—his unconscious rampages required close watch.

Days passed with Vanilla, You Long’er, and Yi Qing tending him meticulously. The vast bed allowed them to nap on its edges during night shifts.

Whether Ye Shisan’s luck or the women’s accord, their bickering persisted, but their bond warmed.

Yi Qing swiftly changed his bandage. You Long’er handed water and pills. Vanilla, idle, leaned by the bed, gazing at him.

Suddenly, she chirped, “Uncle Shisan, what’s this ‘Void Deity’ you mumbled in your sleep?”