Behind the Blood Buddha, countless twisted arms suddenly spread out, each one sprouting dense, pitch-black eyes.

The Mountain God’s grotesquely swollen body floated in midair, a colossal mountain shadow manifesting at its back.

The clash between the two deities had already surpassed human comprehension. This was a battle of paranormal gods. The sky alternated between blood-red and deep green.

Bai Wan’s expression, however, turned grim.

Divine Descent… this was the ability of the Blood Husk Idol. Every second, it burned through three hundred Paranormal Coins. His supply had long since run dry; what remained was only the statue’s lingering power struggling against the Mountain God.

But gradually, the Mountain God began to dominate. The Blood Buddha had no root to draw strength from, while the Mountain God’s aura only grew.

The pressure of two gods clashing made Bai Wan’s body nearly immobile.

Since the summoning, he had already pulled out Time Letter, the time-space artifact. His trembling hand dragged a pen across its surface.

This was his final trump card.

If the Mountain God could invade the past—then Bai Wan, too, had a way to reach back.

Their luck had been rotten this time, at the very last moment, the Mountain God of the future had completed its invasion to the present. The first time the green-clad figure appeared and tried to flee—that was the perfect chance to capture it.

So he had to write to himself from half an hour ago. Warn his past self, strike before the Mountain God matured.

Yet under this suffocating aura, every stroke of the pen felt like writing homework during summer break—agonizingly slow, each word costing him dearly.

All he could do was pray the Blood Buddha held out a little longer. For the first time since acquiring the idol, Bai Wan prayed sincerely.

But the crimson figure was already fading. The Mountain God descended from the sky, its body wreathed in dreadful green power, and walked slowly toward Bai Wan with a chilling smile.

It’s over… human.

Bai Wan pressed harder, nearly finished—just a few more words!

The Mountain God drew nearer.

And then—

From nowhere, a strange figure appeared, walking straight between Bai Wan and the Mountain God, phone to his ear.

“Choy Man, why aren’t you answering my call…” he muttered absently.

The Mountain God glanced down at this obstacle with disdain and swiped lazily at him. Halfway through the motion, it froze—its hand had transformed into… a chicken feather.

“???”

The Mountain God stared dumbly.

Has swallowing its future self actually evolved it? But… why the hell did it evolve into a feather?

Rage flared in its eyes as it lunged at the newcomer. But halfway there, its foot caught on a stone. Googlᴇ search novel·fire.net

Bang!

The Mountain God toppled, sprawling face-first. It scrambled upright, shaken, confused… embarrassed.

How could a god stumble on a rock? I am a newborn deity!

It stepped forward again—only for its foot to betray it. Once more, its foot kicked the exact same stone.

Bang!

Down it went a second time. Humiliation burned, panic and disbelief churned in its chest.

How could a mere stone trip me? What kind of cursed stone is this?

…

On the sidelines, Jiang Zai and the others stood stunned.

The Blood Buddha had vanished—they had already resigned themselves to death. Yet here was the Mountain God, flailing like a drunk uncle, brought low by a single rock.

What is this? Mockery? Is it toying with them? Or… is that stone the real god here?

Even Bai Wan gawked at the newcomer.

Good lord… is this the future me? This bug ability feels more broken than mine ever was. Making a god trip over itself—how is that even possible?!

The Mountain God tried again and again to bypass the stone, but each time it collapsed in a new ridiculous pose—sometimes headfirst, sometimes ass-first—like auditioning for a comedy reel.

At last, its fury boiled over. A surge of green aura erupted, shaking the very dimension. The rock shattered to dust.

But before it could retaliate, the future Bai Wan, still on the phone—waved irritably at the sky, then at the Mountain God, as if to say quiet down.

And then—

The heavens rumbled. One after another, blazing meteors fell from the clouds.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

A storm of meteorites smashed into the Mountain God, cratering the ground, fire and rubble erupting everywhere.

But the Mountain God was not so easily beaten. With a roar, it surged back from the pit, body blazing with paranormal energy, and charged…

…Only to slam, full-speed, into an invisible wall.

BANG!

It reeled back, disoriented, then found itself inside an unseen labyrinth. Its power did nothing to dispel the walls. Snarling, it raced through the maze at terrifying speed—

—until it came upon a tiny turtle crawling lazily along.

Irritated, the Mountain God kicked it aside.

Bang!

The turtle flipped into its shell, ricocheted off the wall, and slammed straight back into the Mountain God.

“Shit—!”

The newborn god toppled once more, sent sprawling by a single turtle shell.

…

Su Lingling and the others exchanged bewildered looks.

The terrifying, unsolvable-class entity—this so-called Mountain God—after tripping over itself again and again, was now stumbling clumsily through an invisible maze. Sometimes it even ran into dead ends and had to stop and think its way out like some bumbling puzzle-solver.

Worse yet, its massive frame kept accidentally stepping on the turtles crawling along the floor. Each time, the turtle would flip into a shell and ricochet back into it, sending the “god” sprawling all over again.

And the most shocking sight: the phone-clutching future Bai Wan casually ran a hand over the maze’s air-doors. Wherever his hand passed, the door vanished—turning back into an impenetrable wall.

In other words, unless something unexpected happened, the poor Mountain God would never find an exit.

That door-erasing trick… it was far too familiar. Paired with the face of that distracted figure still muttering into his phone, the truth became clearer with every glance.

“Holy crap… that phone-talking freak… don’t tell me it’s the future Bai Wan?!” Lin Baoyu blurted in disbelief.

The Mountain God, trapped and enraged, began hammering its phantom mountains down against the invisible maze.

Boom! Boom!!

Future Bai Wan rolled his dead-fish eyes, clearly annoyed, and muttered: “I’m trying to make a phone call, and you just keep making noise. Ever heard of basic manners?”

As he spoke, two gigantic characters materialized in the sky—towering words that read: NO MANNERS.

The Mountain God barely had time to register before the two massive characters themselves came crashing down like mountains.

BOOM!

A thunderous impact shook the world. The Mountain God was slammed deep into the ground, half-buried and dazed. That bizarre attack not only flattened it, it also jarred open its inherited memories of the future.

Suddenly, fragments of another timeline flared in its mind.

In that vision, the Mountain God stood in a warped, absurd city. Buildings sprouted plants and golden coins. Three suns burned overhead. From the heavens echoed a chant: Don’t answer, don’t answer…

And in the city’s heart, the Mountain God trembled—trembled before a smiling youth.

The youth raised a finger, a black sphere swelling at its tip.

“Sunspot,” he whispered.

BOOM!

The Mountain God panicked, summoning mountains to block. The explosion ripped through the city in a shockwave of annihilation.

When the smoke cleared, the youth was already floating high in the air, both hands raised. His voice was almost gentle: “O surviving humans… please, lend me your spirit energy.”

Then, impossibly, a massive blue sphere began forming in his hands, swelling larger and larger.

The Mountain God could only gape. That’s not human power—that’s a damn cheat code!

As the enormous sphere grew, even the Mountain God cursed aloud. It knew: this was the end.

But just then, a little girl appeared atop the swelling spirit bomb. She struck a match and asked sweetly: “Excuse me, sir who’s casting a cheat-spirit bomb… would you like a match?”

The youth froze, horror dawning on his face.

Oh shit!

“Not a match! Don’t light the damn—”

Too late. The flame touched the sphere.

BOOOOOOOM!

The blast lit the city like a newborn sun.

The Mountain God barely survived through sheer instinct and its natural defensive power.

…

Now, back in the present, the Mountain God, having inherited that memory—looked at the phone-absorbed Bai Wan with genuine fear.

What kind of monster is this? If not for its own suicidal tendencies, it would have already been erased by that lunatic.

While the future Bai Wan toyed with the Mountain God, the real Bai Wan finally scrawled the last words of his letter.

“Burn the green-clad ghost immediately. Urgent!”

The note vanished in a shimmer of light, carried back thirty minutes into the past.