Die, Replay, Repeat

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Yang Ming’s expression darkened initially, and he clearly felt like he was being treated as a disposable tool. But just as quickly, his mood shifted. A grin spread across his face, and his eyes gleamed with excitement.

“Xiu, do you know how I found out this thing is a Spiritual Gadget?”

Of course, Yang Ming didn’t wait for an answer. He launched into his story without pausing for breath.

“Yesterday, after you gave me this bronze bell, I figured it might be an antique. So I decided to get it appraised. Let me clarify—I wasn’t trying to sell it, okay? I just wanted to understand its value better.”

His tone was so defensive it might as well have been an outright confession.

“Anyway, on the way there, guess what? I ran into a Specter Domain! Not just any domain, either—a Grade-A Specter Domain!”

Yang Ming’s voice rose with excitement as he recounted the encounter.

“That Specter wasn’t just strong—it was sneaky as hell. It never came at me directly. It kept hiding, ambushing me over and over. I had to rely on my Corpse Bead just to survive.

"We were locked in this exhausting stalemate for what felt like forever. Honestly, I thought I was done for. Then, out of nowhere, the bronze bell started ringing on its own!”

Yang Ming’s hands flew into the air as he imitated the sound of the bell.

“It gave off this intense bronze light. The sound was incredible! It didn’t completely stop the Specter, but it slowed it down so much that it was like time had almost frozen. That gave me just enough time to finish the fight!

"After that, my Spiritual Energy surged like crazy. Now I’m at the peak of the third tier, and I think I’ll break into the fourth tier any day now!”

Yang Ming beamed, his chest puffed out with pride. He was clearly thrilled, both by the bell’s mysterious powers and his own rapid progress.

Fang Xiu listened quietly, piecing together the implications of Yang Ming’s story.

He could understand Yang Ming’s excitement—it wasn’t just about the bell’s miraculous abilities; it was also about the thrill of his personal breakthrough.

Yang Ming’s progress was undeniably fast, almost absurdly so. But that was expected for someone like him. His recent experiences were a gauntlet of life-and-death encounters: from Nightmare, to the psychiatric hospital, the Specter train, the headquarters battle, and now the Grade A Specter Domain.

Of course, the real reason behind Yang Ming’s exceptional growth was his status as the favored one of God. Otherwise, someone like Bai Qi, who had fought through many of the same battles, would have achieved similar results.

Fang Xiu picked up the bronze bell, his fingers brushing over its now-smooth surface. It felt completely different from the rusted, ordinary artifact he’d handed to Yang Ming just a day earlier.

It was unmistakable now—the bronze bell had awakened. It exuded the unique energy signature of a Spiritual Gadget.

What had caused this transformation? Fang Xiu wondered.

Fang Xiu sank into thought. The bell’s evolution likely stemmed from two key factors: Yang Ming’s ability and his encounter with the Specter.

While Yang Ming’s innate ability, God's Plan, probably played a role in supporting the transformation, Fang Xiu suspected the true catalyst was the Specter.

After all, the bell had shown no signs of awakening while in Yang Ming’s possession—until the Specter encounter. That confrontation seemed to have triggered the bell’s latent powers.

This realization sparked a deeper question. 'Is there a parallel between the awakening of Spiritual Gadgets and the process by which ordinary people became psychics?'

When ordinary individuals survived encounters with Specters, their minds often became infused with Specter energy. This sometimes led to the awakening of their Spiritual Energy. Now Fang Xiu was thinking, 'Could the bronze bell have undergone a similar process?'

The bell had been exposed to Specter energy, endured its trial, and emerged “awakened” as a Spiritual Gadget.

The threads of connection between them felt tantalizingly close, yet frustratingly out of reach.

If Fang Xiu could unlock this mystery, it might pave the way for groundbreaking insights into Specters, psychics, and their shared origins.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Fang Xiu focused on the bell. He infused it with a thin thread of Spiritual Energy, then gave it a light shake.

DONG—!

A deep, resonant chime rang out, its sound reverberating like a thunderclap.

The moment Fang Xiu infused the bronze bell with Spiritual Energy, the world around him seemed to warp.

Yang Ming, mid-sentence, abruptly slowed down. His words dragged, his movements crawled, and even the blink of his eyes became excruciatingly sluggish.

“Xi—u... no... stop...”

A sentence that should have taken a second to say stretched into three, his voice distorted like a recording played at half speed.

Even a single blink took him two full seconds, making it feel like time itself had been dragged into a mire.

To Fang Xiu, it was as if the world around Yang Ming had switched to slow motion.

He frowned slightly, studying the phenomenon. 'Could the bronze bell’s power manipulate time itself? Or is it merely slowing the physical movements of those caught within its range?'

To test his theory, Fang Xiu stopped channeling his Spiritual Energy into the bell.

In an instant, the effect vanished. Yang Ming snapped back to normal, his speech and movements resuming their natural pace.

“Gosh!” Yang Ming exclaimed, his eyes wide with shock. “Xiu, how did you lock me down like that? Did you dump all your Spiritual Energy into the bell or something?”

Fang Xiu remained calm, though Yang Ming’s reaction intrigued him.

“I only used a fraction of my Spiritual Energy,” he replied.

“No way!” Yang Ming shook his head, looking utterly baffled. “When I used the bell against that Grade A Specter, I barely managed to slow it down for a few seconds—and it burned through more than half my energy! But you just held me for at least five seconds. That should’ve drained you completely!”

Yang Ming’s words made Fang Xiu pause. His efficiency with the bell’s power seemed unusually high.

“What did it feel like when you were slowed?” Fang Xiu asked, adopting an analytical tone.

“It was like I was moving through syrup while everything around me sped up. My body felt heavy, sluggish, like time itself had turned against me,” Yang Ming said, rubbing his arms as if shaking off the lingering effects.

So, it was time manipulation.

“Your turn,” Fang Xiu said, handing the bronze bell to Yang Ming. “Try freezing me.”

Yang Ming hesitated, his lips twitching as if considering a joke. Then, unable to resist, he grinned mischievously. “Payback time.”

Channeling his Spiritual Energy into the bell, he gave it a vigorous shake.

DONG—!

The deep chime reverberated through the room, sending invisible waves of energy cascading over Fang Xiu.

Fang Xiu immediately felt the effects. Time around him seemed to slow, but his mind remained sharp, acutely aware of the shift. He could sense the bell’s power bending the fabric of time, attempting to wrap him in its grip.

Curious, Fang Xiu raised his hand slowly, testing the field’s limits.

Yang Ming’s confident grin faded the moment Fang Xiu moved. His face went pale, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

CLANG!

The bronze bell slipped from Yang Ming’s trembling hands and clattered to the floor.

“Xiu... Are you a fifth-tier psychic pretending to be third-tier?!” Yang Ming stammered, his voice shaky with disbelief.

“Why?!” he cried, clutching his head. “Why did freezing you drain more energy than freezing that Specter? You weren’t even moving at first, but the moment you did, I felt like my entire Spiritual Energy reserve got sucked dry!”

Fang Xiu’s brows knit together as he processed Yang Ming’s reaction. 'Freezing me drained more energy than freezing an A-Grade Specter?'

Glancing at Yang Ming’s exhausted state, Fang Xiu quickly pieced together the reason.

The bronze bell wasn’t merely slowing targets; it was manipulating the flow of time itself. This ability required tremendous energy, and its efficiency depended heavily on the target’s relationship with time.

And as for why the bell’s power drained Yang Ming so severely when used against Fang Xiu? The answer lay in Fang Xiu’s unique circumstances.

His death reset ability had repeatedly rewound time to resurrect him and fundamentally altered his existence. His body and soul were steeped in time energy, making him inherently resistant to time manipulation.

Rather than being suppressed, Fang Xiu’s affinity with time resonated with the bronze bell, reducing the energy cost of using it and making its effects on him negligible.

To the bell, Fang Xiu wasn’t a target—it recognized him as a natural wielder.

Fang Xiu’s eyes narrowed as he picked the bronze bell off the floor. A Spiritual Gadget capable of manipulating time itself wasn’t just rare—it was invaluable.

Fang Xiu didn’t shake the ancient bronze bell this time. Instead, he focused his Spiritual Energy into it, allowing it to flow steadily and continuously.

With his mind emptied of distractions, he sought to sense the elusive power of time hidden within the artifact.

As his Spiritual Energy poured in, the bronze bell began to glow brighter. The soft, ethereal light that had once radiated from it grew in intensity, casting long, dancing shadows across the walls of the office.

The glow wasn’t just brighter—it was almost alive. It pulsed and throbbed in rhythm with Fang Xiu’s energy, responding to him as if the bell was awakening to his will.

Fang Xiu maintained his focus, even as the strain of channeling so much energy began to wear on him. He pushed through the mounting fatigue, feeling the mysterious threads of time flicker and weave around him, just beyond his reach.

Finally, as his Spiritual Energy approached its limit, he felt it—a resonance. A connection between himself and the bell. It was faint at first, like the echo of a whisper, but it grew stronger with each passing moment.

The bell responded.

The warm bronze light that filled the room began to shift, condensing into solid rays of brilliance. These rays didn’t dissipate but instead etched themselves into the bell's surface, like the brushstrokes of a master calligrapher.

The energy in the air grew heavy with significance. Fang Xiu could feel it—this wasn’t merely a random phenomenon. The bell was revealing a part of its essence, its identity.

Slowly, the light rays formed a single, bold character on the bell’s surface. The strokes were ancient and powerful, filled with an unyielding aura that radiated authority and dominion.

The character was...

“Emperor.”

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Translator's note: Emperor Bell is a real tool in Taoism. The author will explain in the next chapter.