Grandpa Vremya took in his surroundings. To his left and to his right, there were walls. Above him and below him, there was a ceiling and a floor. If it weren’t for the fact the space in front of him and behind him were open, he would’ve believed he had been transported into a coffin. The space was narrow, not permitting any exaggerated movements of the arms or legs. If he stood on the tips of his toes, his head would collide with the ceiling. There had been many cultivators taller than him who had entered the competition, and he couldn’t help but wonder if these corridors were tailored for their height or if those tall cultivators were stuck walking sideways with their backs hunched like crabs. It was probably the former. Since that was the case, he deduced he had been transported into an area personally created just for him.
Right now, he had two obvious choices. He could go forward, or he could go backwards. Of course, he also had the choice of smashing through the wall, ceiling, or floor with his abilities. In fact, that was the best choice. Following the rules set by the committee or smashing apart everything with pure strength, which option was more domineering? No doubt, it was the latter. Only the weak were constrained by rules! Nine golden discs exited from Grandpa Vremya’s body. They merged together, stacking on top of one another, forming a golden cylinder. The cylinder blurred, and its form shifted into that of a black hole. With a flick of Grandpa Vremya’s finger, the black hole shifted upwards, crashing into the ceiling. There were multiple cracking sounds as it was torn apart and gradually disintegrated into microscopic pieces.
The black hole was like an eraser; wherever it went, nothing would be left behind. Even the space was distorted for a few seconds before returning back to normal. Grandpa Vremya performed a few tests with the black hole. There was nothing in the ground. When the floor was destroyed, all that was there was dirt. Sending the black hole tens of meters deep didn’t yield any results either. Sending the black hole upwards produced the same result. No matter how far he sent the black hole to the sides, he couldn’t see anything other than dirt. At first, he thought he had been transported into a maze, but now, it seemed like he had been transported into a long corridor instead. In that case, there really were only two choices to choose from. This was either a trial of luck or intuition.
Grandpa Vremya stroked his beard. The competitors with cloning or summoning techniques would probably have an easier time. As for himself, he hadn’t formed his foundation with any techniques other than those related to gravity.
On the Moon Lotus World, hundreds of disciples from the Moon Lotus Sect discussed the trial with one another. They were able to see all the competitors at the same time. Some of the competitors’ actions were similar to Grandpa Vremya’s, testing the stage before making decisions. Others split their bodies in two, walking down both paths. A few boldly strode forward, and one person slumped to the ground as if he had fallen asleep. Other than the collapsed man, Grandpa Vremya was the most indecisive. After his initial probing of his surroundings, all he did was stand in place, stroking his beard while the black hole around him ate up some dirt like a meandering earthworm.
“What is Elder Vremya doing? As an elder of the Moon Lotus Sect, he shouldn’t be so wishy-washy,” Michelle said. As the sect leader, there were many important matters she had to handle. As someone who severed most of her emotions long ago, she didn’t care. If the sky fell on the Moon Lotus Sect, the retired sect leaders, who lived on as ancestors, would hold it up. As such, she took it upon herself to destress and slack off by watching the competition.
“What choice do all of you think he’ll make?” Azalea asked, directing her question towards the disciples. It was rare for them to have a chance to witness a strong cultivator make decisions—less rare now that they were gradually connecting to the intergalactic society and capable of using the internet.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Forward!” one inner disciple said. “In cultivation as in life, a person should only move forward.”
Some disciples nodded while others shook their heads in disagreement. “If that’s the case, why is there even a path backwards?”
“If you close your eyes, spin around a few times, lose all bearings of the direction you’re facing, then forwards and backwards are really just the same thing,” another disciple said.
“Well, why don’t you tell us what you’d do instead of trying to sound smart?”
The disciple puffed her chest out. “Obviously, I’d summon a frost clone and walk both ways.”
“Elder Azalea, you know Elder Vremya the best out of all of us here,” Ruby said. “What do you think he’ll do?”
“My life wouldn’t be so unpredictable if I knew what he was thinking,” Azalea said, her expression darkening. One minute, she’d be out buying art supplies for Grandpa Vremya, and then she’d be going back to the market the next minute to buy chess sets. She never knew what was coming next, and Grandpa Vremya basically never told her anything until after he finished what he was doing.
“Everyone, be quiet,” a young girl said. “He’s doing something.”
The Moon Lotus Sect disciples fell silent as they raised their heads at the same time. On the screen, Grandpa Vremya was making a move. The black hole in front of him gradually began to grow. It grew and grew, ripping apart the narrow corridor and the dirt behind it. At a certain point, the camera feed was disabled as the black hole damaged the formations allowing viewers to watch what was happening.
“What’s he doing?” a disciple asked Azalea.
“Being Elder Vremya,” Azalea said. It wasn’t just Grandpa Vremya’s connection that had been interrupted. The screen had been split into multiple feeds, and one by one, those feeds were disappearing as well. To the viewers, it was clear everyone had been given their own corridor. However, it seemed like they were all still within the same vicinity of each other; otherwise, how would Grandpa Vremya’s expanding black hole affect them otherwise? If those competitors were sucked in and died, wouldn’t that be a problem? Azalea snorted and shook her head. Even if that did become a problem, why was she worrying about it? It was the committee for the Bread Games that would have to resolve it. Meanwhile, more and more feeds shut off until the display was completely black.
Suddenly, the screen brightened again, revealing a flustered individual sitting behind a desk. “The viewing formation was temporarily disrupted. As soon as these technical issues are resolved, we’ll be right back. In the meantime, the famous rock band, The Great Doozies, will be putting on a performance until our technicians can solve the problem.”
The video cut away to a group of four individuals dressed like giant green chickens, each one in front of a musical instrument. The filming area was at the venue of the Bread Games. While tapping their talons, The Great Doozies played a catchy tune, and the lead chicken began warbling out a magnificent song.
“What the hell is this?” Michelle asked. “Where’s the trial? I didn’t schedule free time for myself to watch four chickens engage in a mating ritual.”
“The host said there were technical issues,” a disciple said.
“Technical issues? Hah! It was clearly Elder Vremya’s ability that destroyed the viewing formations. It’s not a technical issue anymore but a physical one.”
“Everything will work out in the end, right?” a younger disciple asked.
“It’ll be fine,” Azalea said. At that moment, the screen burned with a white light. A massive pillar of energy had shot into the sky behind the four singing chickens. Evidently, something had exploded. Azalea pursed her lips. In the end, the Bread Games was hosted by the federation; they wouldn’t allow anything to happen to their star athletes. Azalea shook her head, wondering why she was worrying about the other competitors. Then, the answer hit her. It was a part of cleaning up the mess Grandpa Vremya had made; it always seemed to be up to her to resolve any problems that arose from Grandpa Vremya’s horrible behavior.