The imnse backlash from having his spiritual energy forcibly expelled transford into an invisible sledgehamr, crashing into Lin Jie's chest.
He swayed from the overwhelming sense of weakness, nearly slipping from his chair.
But now, Lin Jie had no ti to attend to the pain in his body.
His sowhat unfocused gaze locked onto the new chapter being written by an invisible hand on the black diary before him.
What was recorded there was not a fabricated mory from the "past," but a verdict from the "future."
"... Evening, October 27th. The rain in Heidelberg has finally stopped, the moonlight on the Neckar River is pure and bright. Tonight is a night worth rembering."
"In the restaurant of the 'Knight's House,' I raised a glass with my best friend Julian and my most respected partner William, celebrating my 'rebirth.'"
"Julian was still his charming, talkative self. He ordered a bottle of Burgundy wine for , congratulating on shaking off the state of 'self-doubt.'"
"He even jokingly suggested anonymously writing up this period of my dical history as a paper and submitting it to the newly established 'psychoanalysis' journal in Vienna."
"After experiencing months of 'identity disorder,' I have finally, today, completely defeated that false phantom nad 'Lin Jie' from another world, which had been haunting like a nightmare."
"I understand now that those so-called 'transmigration mories' were rely morbid delusions born from my excessive obsession with Eastern pagan legends."
"My true and only identity is 'Lin von Stein,' a proud German scholar born in the forests of Bavaria and raised amidst the scholarly atmosphere of Heidelberg."
"From this night onward, that phantom will forever vanish from my consciousness. And I will greet a new life with a single, healthy 'self.' Thank you, my friends. Thank you, Heidelberg. Thank you, God..."
This was the last supper ticulously prepared for him by the "Doppelgänger."
A pre-written ending.
It issued its final ultimatum to Lin Jie in this fatalistic manner. This "lonely ga" would reach its final conclusion tomorrow night.
At that ti, it would complete the overwriting of all of Lin Jie's mories and identity.
By then, there would be no "transmigrator" Lin Jie from the 21st century in this world. Only a "Lin von Stein" with a complete soul and plausible mories, perfectly integrated into this era.
Lin Jie was cornered.
His past was being tampered with, his present was being isolated, and his future had already been written in advance by the enemy, mockingly delivered to him personally.
This was a power operating on the "information dinsion," so imnse it was utterly despair-inducing.
Faced with such a hopeless dead-end where even their own "ending" had been arranged, an ordinary person's ntal defenses would inevitably collapse.
Yet, after the initial shock on Lin Jie's face, the panic rapidly faded.
Because he, too, had found the critical flaw in this seemingly unsolvable "future diary"—a flaw exposed by the enemy's own ignorance and arrogance.
The vulnerability was the very na "Lin Jie" itself.
The UMA could imitate his handwriting and copy his mories, but it could never truly "understand" the unique imprint of over twenty years of civilization and emotion behind those Chinese characters.
It was even more incapable of comprehending the emotional warmth and cultural depth behind those "transmigration mories" constructed from the cultural symbols of two different eras.
It could perfectly plagiarize every word of a beautiful essay, but it could never plagiarize the unique "thought," "emotion," and "soul" of the original author who created it.
And this was the proof of authorship Lin Jie could use to prove he was more "real" than the counterfeit.
...
The next evening, as Heidelberg's sky was shrouded in deep purple twilight, Lin Jie walked out of the room that had trapped him for dozens of hours, alone.
He was astonished to find that the impassable "infinite corridor" had disappeared.
The entire "Knight's House" hotel had returned to its normal state.
An ancient grandfather clock in the corner emitted a steady tick-tock, and warm kitchen lights and the aroma of food drifted through the window at the end of the corridor.
The absurdly eerie "cognitive imprisonnt" from yesterday seed never to have happened.
He smoothly made his way to the classical restaurant on the hotel's first floor.
Warm candlelight flickered in the restaurant, and the air was filled with the fragrance of roast at and red wine.
He saw William and Julian sitting at the pre-booked best table by the window, which offered a view of the old bridge at night.
When they saw Lin Jie, smiles of joy, as if reuniting with an old friend, appeared on their faces.
But Lin Jie detected sothing amiss.
Because those smiles were too "standard" and too "unfamiliar."
They were not the exaggerated, teasing smiles in the French style he knew, nor the reserved, understated smiles of a veteran.
They were a kind of programd friendliness.
They waved affectionately at Lin Jie and, in unison, addressed him: "Good evening, Stein."
Lin Jie's body stiffened slightly.
In the end, he calmly walked over and sat down opposite them.
He understood that the UMA's "cognitive barrier" had been completed in a more advanced and covert manner.
In this rewritten world, the "transmigrator" Lin Jie from the 21st century was already "dead."
Sitting before him now were rely two individuals with Julian and William's appearances, whose core perceptions had been altered.
And in the seat of honor at the table, a doppelgänger identical to Lin Jie in looks, attire, and deanor was elegantly holding a glass of red wine, gazing at him with a mocking, triumphant smile.
"Good evening, my dear 'phantom,'" the doppelgänger said with a smile, raising its glass as if for a final, ceremonial toast.
"Thank you for your company during this ti. But now, it is ti for you to return to the 'void' where you truly belong."
It was preparing to begin the feast of "consumption."
Lin Jie simply looked at it calmly, his eyes showing no fear, only a bottomless pity.
He took out from his chest the black investigator's journal, bearing the marks of battle and the patina of ti.
He offered no futile argunts or pointless resistance.
He simply opened the heavy diary to its first page, to the chapter that recorded the beginning of everything.
Then, in a clear, steady voice, carrying the indelible emotion of a "firsthand witness," he began to recite his own unique history.
"November 1888, the 'Sea of Resentful Won,' Indian Ocean. The steam freighter I was on, the 'Sea Witch,' was besieged by the Alert-class UMA, the 'Deep Sea Siren.'"
"That was the first ti I saw the light from the inner world, and the first ti I witnessed a hunter's sacrifice. The Cartographer, Karl von Stein, used his life to open this gate to hell for ..."
His voice was not loud, but the "emotional weight" of real experience contained within it transford into the loudest war drum, pounding heavily in this quiet restaurant filled with "falsehood."
The smile on the doppelgänger's face as it raised its glass froze.
Ignoring it, Lin Jie continued his recitation.
"... The sa year, sa month, the White Church District, London. I encountered the Town-class UMA, the 'Mist Walker,' the predator constructed from shadows, known in the surface world as 'Jack the Ripper.'"
"There, I learned that courage is not the absence of fear, but the choice to pull the trigger despite fear. It was also there that I t Marcus, t Barton... I was no longer alone..."
An expression of incomprehensible "confusion" appeared on the doppelgänger's face.
Because it discovered that the stories Lin Jie was reciting, filled with "genuine emotion" and "brutal detail," were absent from its own impoverished database, which could only copy and paste through observation.
"... West India Docks, the Gremlin nest. We used order to fight chaos. I designed the [Cursebreaker Vambrace]..."
"... Loch Ness, Scotland. We witnessed a deity. I received the 'Guardian's' gift. My [Serene Heart] underwent its first evolution..."
"... The Paris catacombs. We liberated the imprisoned 'Catacomb Nightingale.' We shattered the conspiracy of the 'Eternal Serpent'..."
"... The Dartmoor Wilderness. We raced against the 'Black Dog.' We snatched a companion back from the hands of death..."
"... The Dublin estate. We altered a three-hundred-year-old curse. We ended a legend..."
Lin Jie's voice grew louder and more powerful with each word.
Every UMA na he had personally ended, every miracle he and his companions had created fighting side by side, transford into bugles carrying the power of "existence," sounding a majestic symphony of rebellion in this restaurant shrouded in "void."
The UMA could copy the symbol "Lin Jie." It could copy the background of "Stein."
But it could never replicate Lin Jie's unique life of blood and fire, love and protection.
"I, am my history!!"
Lin Jie uttered the ultimate declaration that shattered all void.
The doppelgänger's face twisted in the agony of collapse, unable to comprehend or parse the imnse "flow of real information" before it.
Its face, identical to Lin Jie's, began to distort and lt like a television screen with poor reception.
Finally, under the direct impact of Lin Jie's powerful "self-awareness" constructed from countless segnts of "real history," the very foundation of the "Doppelgänger's" existence, built upon "falsehood" and "paradox," lost its logical support.
It trembled all over, like a liar whose every deception had been publicly exposed.
Then, its body began to disintegrate and crumble from within, inch by inch, ultimately turning into nothingness.
Across from him, Julian and William, their faces still wearing those "false smiles," simultaneously jolted violently.
It was as if they had been forcibly awakened from a long nightmare. Their eyes, regaining their spark, were filled with confusion and bewildernt.
"Lin? What... just happened?" Julian asked, painfully rubbing his temples.
"I feel like... I had a very long nightmare about Kant..."
Looking at his two friends who had regained their "reality," Lin Jie's tightly wound heart finally relaxed.
He put down the black diary in his hand.
Then, he picked up a pen and wrote the final sentence of this story on that page stained with his blood.
"Today, I killed another ."
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