Famine 249: Commander
by Cristae—Who are you, really?
Bian Xu looked around.
Nidhogg’s dragon wings were smeared with blood; beneath Nie Du’s calm expression, his grip on the scythe had tightened. All the players had clearly split into two camps, divided and opposed, with this moment as their center.
While the leaders fought, the lower-ranking officers had already quietly chosen their sides.
This was the prelude to collapse.
Everyone was watching him.
And so, after all the breakdowns, evasions, and trembling battles with the darkness, Bian Xu finally understood—things had come too far for any peaceful resolution.
No amount of mental preparation could still his pounding heart at this moment.
He lowered his head briefly; his hand in his pocket clenched unconsciously.
In his palm was a sealed, brilliantly golden leaf.
It belonged to no known tree, a unique broadleaf born in the farm.
On the night of the amusement park’s reconstruction beneath a starry sky, riding the carousel,
Si Zhiyan caught a fallen autumn leaf from a lakeside withered tree and placed it over Bian Xu’s heart.
Please give me strength, Bian Xu prayed silently.
Give me the courage to resist all conflict, cold gazes, inferiority, and obsession; let me overcome humanity’s base nature and cowardice, to win the world I yearn for.
I will strive for you, dedicate my life for your ideals, for the future where the world I long for, and you, are always together.
Then, Bian Xu slowly raised his hand to the side of his neck.
Snap.
The vines quivered.
Facing Nidhogg, the sights of Shi He’s rifle, Wang Jianguo’s doubts, and the gazes of thousands upon thousands of farm players…
Before all eyes, the drifting shroud of mist and disguise that had circled Bian Xu for years began, at last, to dissipate.
A strand of golden hair flickered into view.
“—?!”
Nidhogg straightened abruptly.
His pupils trembled, a sense of foreboding surging up without warning.
Bian Xu made him wait no longer. He took a deep breath and flicked his fingers upward; instantly, the mists burst apart.
Suddenly, like a silent detonation, currents of air rolled and rippled out, sweeping away everything.
—Revealing a head of brilliant golden hair, radiant as the rising sun.
The long night was not yet over; Overgod and Si Zhiyan had both disappeared; the scene was wrapped in darkness, lit only by scattered torches held by players, arrayed in formation as Bian Xu had trained them. Layer upon layer, the flickering lights reflected back a burning gold.
Bian Xu’s features were sharply cut, always carrying a bright, gentle smile at the corners of his eyes, whatever the occasion. His pupils were a light amber, and when he looked up, firelight sparkled in them like drifting flecks of gold upon water.
How familiar, and yet how alien, that face was.
“……”
Nidhogg found himself momentarily lost for words.
Bian Xu lifted his gaze, faced everyone, and softly said:
“I am Bian Xu.”
“I am Donglin Jinwu. Five-year running champion of the Chosen rankings.”
“I was the original founder of Team Xubei.”
“I am the commander of the farm’s armed forces.”
“I am the farm owner’s assistant.”
“I am human.”
“I am a monster.”
…
Bian Xu paused, closed his eyes briefly, then slowly continued:
“I am… a part of the farm itself.”
Whoosh!
A sound of wind sliced out of nowhere. Shi He swung his grappling hook, flipping himself into the center of the battlefield.
Even for Shi He, the speed was almost too much. He nearly stumbled, steadying himself on a vine.
Catching his breath, half-kneeling, the youth looked up.
He saw, as in days gone by, that same brilliant, candid smile.
Bian Xu wore a casual, black-and-red windbreaker, one hand in his pocket, straightening his collar.
Behind him, a sea of windblown vines separated, then linked Nie Du and Nidhogg, supporting the earth, spreading in all directions, reaching for the sky.
Wang Jianguo was totally stunned.
Bian Xu strode forward, passing him by, and as they brushed shoulders, thumped Wang Jianguo’s arm, smiling—
Just as he once had, when first inviting Wang Jianguo into Team Xubei.
Wang Jianguo stood dazed, not turning back as his eyes reddened.
Whoosh!
Anderson arrived with Zhong Yanqing and the rest of Team Xubei.
Blue lights flashed one by one—they lined up behind Bian Xu, forming a protective phalanx.
Nothing more needed saying; only that one gesture sufficed.
Team Xubei, once scattered, quickly returned to his side.
In all these years, not one friend Bian Xu had protected with his life had ever forgotten him.
Zhong Yanqing was nearly in tears. Landing, she rushed to him, only for Anderson to pull her aside.
In the crowd, Lin Qiushui, wounded, sat in the medical section, craning his neck for a glimpse, blocking his own tears.
He stood in front of Team Xubei, facing Nidhogg, his voice soft, yet ringing in every ear:
“Back to the question, why can I guarantee that you can wait…? Because I can monitor anyone’s status.”
“As long as you remain in the farm, as long as you’ve eaten its food—your blood, your heartbeat, your health, everything becomes part of the farm.”
The vines binding Nidhogg retreated inch by inch. He stood in place, posture unchanged.
Bian Xu turned aside, dodging his gaze, and said with a chuckle:
“Long time no see… Brother.”
The air fell silent.
One second, two seconds…
After a moment, a soft sound escaped Nidhogg’s throat.
“Ha…”
Boom!
His pitch-black dragon wings suddenly unfurled, flooding the air with the stench of blood and gunpowder, fire raging out in a wild cyclone.
The crowd all recoiled, falling back—to leave only Nidhogg and Bian Xu at the storm’s heart.
“Ha… hahahahahaha!” Nidhogg laughed, clutching his face with a crazed, almost hysterical joy. “You bastard, do you fucking know… do you know how long we’ve been looking for you?”
“You’d damn well better be up to something important. You’d better know what you’re doing. You’d better be able to tell us all, without shame or hesitation, that you had no choice, that you meant well, that it was all worth it.”
Including that fire so many years ago, including the tears his child, Team Xubei, and everyone else shed for his sake.
“Yeah.” Bian Xu smiled wryly, reaching out. “Sorry.”
“Say it!”
“Yes. Everything I have done was worth it. I serve the greatest master; every moment of mine is made meaningful by him; every drop of my blood is shed where it should be; all my life, I have done what was right, walked the right road, and I have no regrets.”
Bian Xu paused, then added:
“You should thank me for all the good food you get to eat now.”
“Screw you!”
Nidhogg roared with laughter.
In the wild winds, he brushed burning vine ash from his scales, then slammed his scaled hand down, gripping Bian Xu’s hand with an audible smack.
“Now tell me! Where to?!”
Blunt, direct, vertical pupils gleaming with sinister light.
—These words meant he was ready to follow Bian Xu’s lead.
In just a few sentences, Bian Xu had tamed the unruly dragon.
Nie Du was so stunned he could barely speak.
For a moment, as Bian Xu stood there, one hand in his pocket, in that windbreaker, he seemed almost like Si Zhiyan himself.
He had always been chasing his master, from the day they met until now, never apart.
“Wait… wait, wait,” Nie Du said. “Bian Xu, do you know Mr. Si’s plan?”
“I do.” Bian Xu adjusted his sleeve, vines smothering stray fires around him, and smiled softly, “He didn’t want me to know… But…”
But nothing that happens here can escape my notice.
Bian Xu never told Si Zhiyan this fact.
After being separated from the basement, the system prompt was:
[Autonomous Hosting Core has been completed.]
[[Former Farm Core — Bian Xu] may act autonomously.]
But the key point was [autonomously]. Never once did any prompt tell Si Zhiyan that Bian Xu had lost his previous authority.
He had long since handed the master position to Si Zhiyan, but he could still see everything Si Zhiyan could, still communicate through their special link.
In the cataclysm years before, Bian Xu became the core of the farm. From then on, his flesh and soul were fused with the distorted farm, and inseparably with Si Zhiyan, as if they were two lumps of clay melded together—nothing could tear them apart.
He was his master’s creation.
He had, countless times, wrapped his master in thorns and sworn in his heart: My master is mine.
His master’s heartbeat, his master’s skin temperature, his master’s organs, his master’s eyes, his master’s warm bodily fluids flowing through his veins, from hair to fingertips—all watched, all so familiar to him.
I’m sorry. That’s the kind of person I am.
But it’s too late to swap out your guardian now, so please forgive me.
Bian Xu’s thumb stroked the leaf as he prayed.
Nie Du quickly asked, “So, Mr. Si—what is he doing now?”
Bian Xu looked up. “Using [The Collapse of Buzhou Mountain].”
“—!!”
An uproar swept through the crowd.
Many had already guessed as much, and now confirmation made them even more uneasy. No one wanted to hear it. Nie Du sighed. Alice bit her lip and looked away. Nidhogg sneered, “Knew it.”
“Well? What’s your plan to stop the boss?”
Unexpectedly, Bian Xu shook his head: “He can’t be stopped.”
“What?!,” Nidhogg’s voice rose sharply.
“Because it’s the only way,” said Bian Xu, calm as ever. “The Overgod came too suddenly; we are far too weak. Over these days, I’ve tried every tool in every shop, every farm-generated possibility… But, sadly, there is no substitute.”
“[The Collapse of Buzhou Mountain] is our only hope.”
Bian Xu understood Si Zhiyan’s determination better than anyone. He could never—like Gu Haoping—bind Si Zhiyan for his own sake and watch their promised land fall to ruin. That would be beneath contempt.
Yan Cheng’s hand trembled, “But…”
Bian Xu smiled.
He took two steps back, walking to the center of the gathering. Everyone made way, yet couldn’t resist pressing in, desperate to hear, to get closer, to understand. The great fissure between them seemed to close in the tide of people.
So, Bian Xu stood at the very heart of the crowd, hands in his pockets, smiling as he spoke.
“But, we do have another way.”
“—Please, everyone, help me help the farm owner Si Zhiyan become a [god].”