Chapter 51: If Your Body Reaches Its Limit, Then Let Your Will Carve a Path Through Hell

Chapter 51: If Your Body Reaches Its Limit, Then Let Your Will Carve a Path Through Hell

“Sorry, Lord Kong! I was wrong about you before, bro!”

“Chen Kong: I’m not a genius, but I’m no coward either!”

“Chen Kong, you’re a real man!”

A reversal—no, a complete reversal.

The moment the dimensional viewers saw the boy they had once branded a “coward” throw himself forward to protect a group of complete strangers in the face of death. The timid, self-conscious image of Chen Kong they held in their hearts shattered instantly.

In its place appeared a different figure—still shy, still insecure—but a youth brave enough to face death head-on.

And at that moment, the dimensional audience finally understood something.

What they had always despised was never true kindness. It was the hypocrisy of those who spoke of righteousness and morality, yet used those same words to shackle others.

You can choose to hide in the corner and stay silent. But don’t you dare mock—or slander—those who are braver than you.

Because the light they fight and die for, that light will one day shine on you too.

BANG!

The black Void Mark bullet tore through the flames and smoke, cutting a clean line through the chaos—and under the breathless gaze of countless viewers, it struck Yong Amsan right between the brows.

But then, something impossible happened.

The bullet passed clean through his forehead, punching a hole straight through the wall behind him and into the empty checkout counter.

Because the “Yong Amsan” standing behind Chen Kong was nothing more than an illusion, so lifelike it could fool even the eyes of a Starbearer.

“What a pity,” a voice whispered, calm and mocking.

“You were so close to killing me.”

Chen Kong’s eyes widened. He whipped around and raised his gun, but before he could even pull the trigger, a crushing force slammed into his abdomen.

BAM!

His body flew like a rag doll, smashing through a shelf and crashing hard to the floor.

And standing where he had just been was the real Yong Amsan.

He still held his punching stance, the muscles in his right arm coiled like steel cables. From his elbow jutted two molten, jet-like growths—volcanic tumors that hissed and smoked.

“You might just be a brat,” he said, voice dripping with disdain, “but here’s a lesson—Starbearers should never attack without knowing their opponent’s Star Origin type.”

“Kid, I’ve already seen right through you.”

“If I’m not mistaken, your Star Origin is a ‘null-type’—something that can neutralize the abilities of others, right? What a ridiculous gift you’ve got there.”

“But it doesn’t matter. I’m not one of those useless trash who can’t fight without their Star Origin.”

“Besides… the weakness of your ability—” He smirked. “—is way too obvious.”

“Kh—!”

Chen Kong curled up amidst the debris. His ribs—several of them—had definitely snapped, maybe even punctured an organ. Warm, metallic-tasting liquid seeped from the corner of his lips.

One rib? Two? Or more?

He didn’t know.

All he knew was that every breath was like swallowing knives.

The air itself burned against his skin.

His body screamed, begging him to stop, to rest, to give up.

It hurt.

It hurt so much he could barely move, let alone stand.

His body had already reached its absolute limit.

There was no denying it—Chen Kong was cornered.

Even at his peak, he wasn’t Yong Amsan’s match.

And now, wounded and battered as he was… escape was a fantasy.

If he had just chosen to run at the beginning—If he had ignored the people trapped inside the supermarket—then with the Void Mark’s stealth effect, Chen Kong could’ve easily slipped away unnoticed, and lived.

But if he had run—If he’d left those people behind—then the furious Yong Amsan would’ve likely slaughtered everyone in that supermarket just to vent his rage.

That was why Chen Kong made his choice.

He stayed.

To buy time—for everyone else to escape.

But for a bunch of total strangers… Was it really worth throwing his life away like this?

He didn’t even know their names.

And even if he risked everything for them, when it was all over, they might not even thank him.

So then… what he was doing right now—was it really worth it?

His head was getting heavier.

His vision dimmed, colors melting together.

Fragments of memory began to flicker past like a film reel.

“Tendou… why does everyone hate me so much? Am I really that unlikeable?”

“Hm, that’s a good question.” Tendou had laughed softly.

“But maybe it’s not that they hate you. Maybe they’re afraid of you.”

“Afraid? Of me? Why?”

“Because people are funny creatures. They’re curious about the unknown—but they fear it just as much.”

“You see, a beast only bares its fangs when it meets another beast it considers a threat.”

“But when it’s facing something harmless—say, a little rabbit—it won’t even bother to stand. It’ll just keep lounging in the sun, completely relaxed.”

“So the more you try to act ordinary, the more afraid they become.”

“Because they can’t tell—are you pretending to be weak… or are you truly that weak?”

“But honestly, none of that matters.” Tendou’s voice had grown calm then, almost gentle.

“Because you’re living for yourself, not for anyone else.”

“So who cares what they think? What matters is what you think.”

When the memory faded, the confusion in Chen Kong’s eyes slowly disappeared.

In its place—clarity. Determination.

Yes.

What others think doesn’t matter.

What I think is what matters most.

Because I live for myself—not for anyone else.

If I believe this is the right thing to do, then I’ll do it.

Whether it’s rewarded or not—whether it’s right or wrong—none of that matters.

If I think it’s right, then it is right.

With that, Chen Kong forced down the Void Mark’s raging power, sealing it deep within himself.

Then he gathered the last of his star energy—every drop he had left—and poured it all into activating his own Star Origin: Dreamweaver.

Dreamweaver’s ability, Synchronize, allowed him to replicate up to three different Star Origins.

And the one he chose to copy now was from none other than Children of the Stars No. 3, Jing Liuli: Daydream.

“Huh? You want to copy my Star Origin?”

“Y-yeah— is that not allowed?”

“Of course it’s fine!” Liuli had smiled, her tone airy and bright.

“It’s not like my Daydream is anything special. If you want to use it, go ahead.”

“Just one thing, though—” she’d added, her smile softening into something faintly mysterious.
“Daydream’s effect isn’t fixed. It changes depending on what you’re thinking—on what you feel.”

“Because only when you dream of something by day can you make it real by night.”

“The reason everyone thinks my Daydream can only make those happy-state recovery candies,” Jing Liuli had once said with a laugh, “is because that’s what I wanted it to do.”

“At the base, I just wanted everyone to be happy every day. So I poured all my joy—all my laughter—into those candies.”

“But everyone’s heart is different. Everyone’s wishes are different. I was content at the base—I wanted to keep that happiness forever. That’s why my candies bring happiness and health to everyone who eats them.”

“But that’s my Daydream, not yours.”

“If you don’t know what it is you truly want, then you’ll never be able to control what your dream creates. Remember that, okay?”

“U-understood.”

That was why Chen Kong had chosen to invoke Jing Liuli’s Daydream now.

Because he knew exactly what he wanted.

He knew exactly how he felt.

His dream was simply to live.

And that desperate will to survive burned fiercer than ever before.

“What—?!”

Yong Amsan’s eyes widened.

The boy who should’ve been half-dead a moment ago was now radiating star energy even stronger than before, a violent, surging pulse that warped the air around him.

The wounds that had shredded his body were closing. His posture straightened. His breath steadied.

It was as if he had never been injured at all.

And in his hand gleamed a small, azure-colored candy—its surface shimmering faintly like liquid sky.

So that was it…

That bastard’s Star Origin—It wasn’t “nullification” at all?!

Or—did he somehow have two Star Origins?!

Yong Amsan didn’t have time to think.

Because Chen Kong—who had once been lying broken in the rubble—was now standing tall again, gun raised.

The black weapon hummed faintly, streaks of cold, blue light crawling along its surface like veins of living energy.

It pulsed with the same rhythm as his heart.

The same rhythm as his will to survive.

He would live.

He would fight.

And his tomorrow—his future—would come.

[Dream Candy · Blue (Pseudo): Temporarily nullifies all pain, restoring and enhancing the user’s star energy and physical strength for three minutes.]

[Side Effect: Once the effect ends, the user enters a 24-hour weakened state. All attributes reduced by 50%.]

[Creator: Chen Kong]

[Blue represents the sky—represents freedom—represents the future. This candy, which carries a fragment of tomorrow within it, will let its user see that brilliant dawn with their own eyes.]

[So if your body has already reached its limit, then let your will carve a path through hell!]

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