Volume 2, Chapter 10: Hollow Genesis
The white void around them felt completely empty. It was like a blank sheet of paper just waiting for someone to write something terrible on it. Minghe, the Lord of the Blood Sea, no longer looked like a grand ancient god. He looked more like an angry old accountant who was tired of dealing with messy paperwork. His red robes shifted slightly, and the air suddenly tasted like metal — sharp and unpleasant.
"The girl has a debt," Minghe said. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. His words carried their own heavy weight. "Slaughter is never free. You don't just kill people and walk away like nothing happened. Every life she took is like a brick in the wall of her own prison. Do you really believe a few clever words can pay for a million lives?"
He waved his hand in a slow, lazy motion.
The empty white space didn't just change — it filled up. First thousands, then tens of thousands, and soon a whole sea of grey, flickering shadows rose from the floor. These were the ghosts of the people Bibi Dong had ordered killed during her rise to power. Enemies, soldiers, and even some innocents caught in the middle. They didn't scream or shout. They just stood there staring with empty, hollow eyes.
Bibi Dong's breath caught in her throat. Her hands, still held tightly by Lakan, began to tremble. It was one thing to be a powerful Goddess looking down at the world from above. It was something completely different to have your past standing right in front of you, silently asking why.
"Look at them," Minghe whispered. "The victims of the Spirit Hall. The soldiers. The children. This is the weight that will drag her down into the Blood Sea. How can someone like her judge the whole universe when she is the one who broke so much of it?"
Lakan felt the heavy pressure pushing down on him. It made his joints ache. It reminded him of the time back in Manila when he had to carry an old, heavy refrigerator up three flights of stairs — that slow, grinding effort where you wonder if your body is going to give out.
But he didn't let go of Bibi Dong's hands. Instead, he let out a short, dry laugh.
"You're doing it again, Tay Minghe," Lakan said. He stood up straighter, his purple eyes scanning the sea of silent ghosts. "You're looking at a whole forest and only complaining about the dirt on the ground. You want to talk about debt? Fine. Let's talk about the real bill."
Lakan didn't use any flashy divine skill. He simply used his Absolute Manifestation to change the entire stage.
The white void shifted and transformed. It didn't become a grand palace or a battlefield. Instead, it turned into a big, open public plaza that looked a lot like a town hall meeting from an old movie. There were benches, a simple podium, and a feeling of everyday order. The ghosts were no longer a scary mob. They became an audience.
"Sit down, everyone," Lakan said, his voice carrying a casual but strong authority. "The court is now in session. And I'm the one holding the microphone today."
Minghe's projection flickered with irritation. "This is nothing but a mockery."
"No, this is a proper history lesson," Lakan replied. He turned toward the ghosts, then back to Minghe. "You say she broke the world? I say she was the one who cleared away the weeds so something new could grow. Some things have to end before something better can begin. Destruction comes first, then creation. That's just how it works. You can't make something good without clearing out the bad parts first."
He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in. He wasn't just speaking to Minghe. He was speaking directly to Bibi Dong's heart.
"That's how life is," Lakan continued. "You can't truly understand peace if you've never known war. You can't fully appreciate life if you've never faced death. They are connected. One leads to the other."
He started pacing slowly in front of the audience of ghosts. "The old Douluo Continent was a rotten place full of greedy noble families and corrupt sects. It was going nowhere. Bibi Dong didn't kill people just for fun. She burned away the old rot so a new forest could grow. Yes, she broke a lot of eggs. But look at what we have now — the Federation, real peace, a world where even a normal kid from a village can have a chance to become strong."
Lakan pointed straight at Minghe. "She didn't steal your Law of Slaughter. She earned the right to use it by doing the hard, dirty work you were too 'pure' to touch. Her malice isn't just a debt. It's the price she paid to create a better world."
He gave a small shrug. "If you want to call that tyranny, then fine. But I say a short time of strong rule is worth it if it brings real, lasting peace."
Minghe didn't look convinced. In fact, he looked offended. His practical, cold nature couldn't accept Lakan's very human way of thinking. To him, power was like clean mathematics. Lakan was treating it like messy poetry.
"Enough of your clever talk," Minghe hissed.
The lotus throne beneath him began to grow. It didn't just get bigger — it started bleeding. A massive wave of dark, foul-smelling blood erupted from the petals and rushed forward to fill the entire plaza. This was the true power of the Blood Sea — the collected weight of every death throughout history, meant to crush Lakan's spirit.
The wave slammed into Lakan's protective barrier and hissed like strong acid.
Lakan felt his Seven-Tone Harmony starting to strain under the pressure. It was heavy. But he wasn't the same person who had first arrived in this world. He was a Sovereign now.
"You really don't know when to quit, do you?" Lakan muttered.
He didn't draw his blades. He didn't need to. He reached deep into his Recursive Simulation.
In his mind, he wasn't thinking about grand divine laws. He was remembering an old anime he watched back on Earth while eating instant noodles. He remembered a character who could erase things by bringing the concept of infinity into reality.
Lakan liked that idea.
He pushed further. He didn't just copy the concept — he made it his own. He reached out, felt the rhythm of the Blood Sea, understood Minghe's power, and then changed the frequency.
"My turn," Lakan said calmly.
He held up two fingers, his hand steady.
Using everything he had, he took the ideas of Destruction and Creation and forced them together in a new way. A small, marble-sized sphere of flickering violet-black light appeared between his fingers. It didn't glow brightly. Instead, it seemed to swallow the light around it.
"You know, I saw something like this in a show once," Lakan thought to himself. "But since I'm a 6D Sovereign, I think I can make it even better."
"What is that?" Minghe asked. For the first time, his voice lost its calm tone.
"This?" Lakan said, his confident smirk growing wider until it became almost dangerous. "This is my Sovereign's Correction. I call it Hollow Genesis."
He didn't throw it. He simply opened his fingers and let go.
The small violet-black sphere drifted forward slowly at first, almost lazily. Then it accelerated. It didn't fly through the air like a normal attack. It erased the space it moved through.
SHRRRRIP—!
A sharp, tearing sound echoed as reality itself was cut open. When the sphere touched the massive wave of Minghe's Blood Sea, there was no explosion, no flash of light. There was only… absence. A clean, perfect hole appeared in the surging tide of blood. The Blood Sea didn't splash or resist. It simply ceased to exist in that path, vanishing into nothingness as if it had never been there.
The sphere continued forward without slowing down.
CRRRAAAAACK—!
It tore straight through Minghe's lotus throne with terrifying ease. The beautiful blood-red petals were erased completely, as if they had never existed. Minghe's projection let out a sharp, surprised gasp as the lower half of his body simply disappeared from the mindscape, leaving a clean cut through his form.
"You… you are rewriting the Law of Slaughter?" Minghe gasped, his projection flickering wildly like a broken image.
But the destruction was only the beginning.
In the empty space left behind by the sphere — the perfect void where the throne and part of Minghe had just been — something new began to happen.
A soft hum filled the air, like the sound of a thousand distant bells ringing at once. From the heart of that nothingness, nine-colored light started to bloom. Small, delicate flowers of pure Genesis energy sprouted where the throne once stood. They grew rapidly, their petals shimmering with silver, gold, violet, and all the hues in between. Where there had been only deletion and absence, new life and possibility were now taking root.
The erased space didn't stay empty. It was being reborn.
Lakan stepped casually over the newly blooming flowers, his boots gently brushing against the fresh petals. He looked down at the half-missing Minghe with pure, playful confidence.
"I'm not rewriting it," Lakan said, his voice calm but carrying a sharp edge. "I'm just telling you that your old version is outdated. You're the Lord of the Blood Sea? Nice title. But even the biggest sea can be drained if someone brings a big enough bucket."
He reached down and plucked a single red thread of energy from the air — the last bit of resistance from the Asura Core. He crushed it easily between his thumb and forefinger with a soft crack.
The trial didn't just end. It was completely thrown out.
••••••••
Bibi Dong slowly stood up. The ghosts were gone. The plaza was gone. They were back in the white void, but it no longer felt heavy and oppressive.
She looked down at her hands. The red and green veins were still visible, but they weren't fighting anymore. They had finally come together and blended into a deep, regal purple energy.
She looked at Lakan. He was leaning against nothing, looking tired but still wearing that familiar, slightly cheeky smile.
"Did we win?" she asked quietly.
"We're winning," Lakan corrected with a soft laugh. "Minghe is going to be annoyed for a few hundred years, but he won't bother us today. You've got the seat now, Dong'er. You are the Only Slaughter God."
He felt a sudden, very human pang of hunger — that tired feeling after a big fight when all you want is a big plate of food and a long nap.
"But man," Lakan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Remind me never to go to a mental courtroom again. The stress is no joke."
Bibi Dong didn't say anything. She simply walked over and buried her face in his chest. She no longer smelled like blood or venom. She smelled like herself again.
Lakan wrapped his arms around her gently, feeling the steady beat of her new, balanced heart. He looked at the white void, which was already starting to fade back into the normal obsidian room of the palace.
He knew the Universe's Will was still out there, probably throwing a fit. But right now, the drums were still playing outside. The lechon was still roasting. And his wife was finally whole.
"Let's go eat," Lakan whispered with a tired but warm smile. "I'm starving."
End of Volume 2, Chapter 10