Deviant: No Longer Human

In the end, they reached no deal.

Xue Hanqin left disappointed.

She had revealed so much, risked so much, played her hand perfectly—all for one conversation with the Eighth Prince.

And yet, she had failed.

Wang Xiao didn't budge.

She even tried to threaten him before leaving—hinting that she could just side with the Karmic Emperor, and that would be the end of him.

But Wang Xiao?

He barely even reacted.

She could have said, "I'll call the manager," and it would've had the same effect.

Because he already knew she wouldn't.

This woman was prepared, careful, and—most importantly—she didn't trust the Karmic Emperor.

That much was obvious.

Her threats were just a last-ditch bluff to regain some control over the situation.

And Wang Xiao? He simply let her walk away empty-handed.

As much as Wang Xiao could tell, Xue Hanqin had long since treated this world as her second life.

She had integrated into it, adapted to it, and now? She might die like a mortal.

Her lifespan would run out, she would reincarnate again into some other random world, and the cycle would continue—a billion lifetimes lost in the void until she finally found a universe with a power vacuum large enough to accommodate a Great Lord-Class being like her.

Billions of years. Trillions, even.

Compared to that?

Waiting for Wang Xiao's answer was easy.

But he didn't expose her thoughts to her.

And that made her cautious.

He already had the information he wanted—now it was time to sort through it carefully, rather than making a hasty decision.

First and foremost—who was the other transcendent?

Can't Wang Xiao just find them and kill them? Problem solved.

But according to Xue Hanqin, Executioners had a hierarchy—and more importantly, they could only consume their assigned targets.

They weren't wild beasts that devoured anyone.

If they could kill freely, then the Karmic Emperor should have already devoured Xue Hanqin. But he hadn't.

Which meant...

There were rules.

Wang Xiao already knew where the second transcendent was.

They were with the Karmic Emperor.

Protected by him.

That bastard wasn't just playing defense—he was waiting.

Waiting for Wang Xiao's karma to reach a breaking point so that he could consume him and evolve even further.

Although it was just a guess, Wang Xiao was almost certain it was true.

One thing still didn't make sense.

The Netherworld's ancestors had plundered entire universes, consumed entire realms, and yet—the Executioners never interfered.

Why?

These Executioners weren't some 'holy guardians', that much was obvious.

They were cold, calculated, and had one purpose—to enforce the functionality of the system.

Wang Xiao rubbed his chin.

It felt… too structured.

As if the entire multiverse was part of a grand system, carefully maintained by some hidden force.

And the Executioners?

They were just the janitors.

Not rulers. Not gods. Just enforcers of a pre-determined law.

Who created them?

Who benefited from all of this?

It felt like a rigged game, a system designed by someone… but for what purpose?

For the first time in a long time, Wang Xiao felt genuinely puzzled.

For now, he decided not to act.

Instead—he would wait.

Not passively.

He would accelerate his bad karma.

Make himself a big, juicy target as fast as possible, so that the Karmic Emperor would have no choice but to face him directly.

Force him into confrontation.

No more waiting. No more silent calculations.

Let's see if that bastard can still hide once the flames start burning.

But there was one thing—one very, very satisfying thing—that came out of this conversation.

This world?

It could never produce a second transcendent on its own.

Wang Xiao was forever at the top.

No one would ever surpass him.

Not Yuriko. Not any of those snakes slithering behind his back, waiting for a chance to strike.

He leaned back with a grin.

Aha… Yuriko.

He couldn't wait to see her beautiful face when she found out.

How ugly it would be when she realized all her schemes meant nothing.

Haha.

So many of these ants plotting against him.

Wasn't it fucking futile?

____

Wang Xiao leaned back, grinning to himself.

The class system in the Netherworld was far more interesting than expected.

To think that Shura King, a man who terrorized entire regions, was merely a General-Class.

To think that someone like him—Wang Xiao—would already be a Lord-Class in their hierarchy.

The equivalent of a Supreme Warlord in the Yang Faction!

"Good decision."

Wang Xiao nodded to himself.

He had made the right call—to ignore Hei Lian & Shura King's words, to never step foot into Purgatory, and to never seek out the Yang King.

Because if he had…

He wouldn't be here now.

No. He would have been enslaved. Turned into a tool. A mere proxy for the Yang King, allowing that bastard to control this world through him.

But now?

Hah!

They could only dream.

Wang Xiao had no intention of reversing his karma, either.

Not when the Karmic Emperor was so eager to consume him.

Not when this was a rare chance for the Executioner to climb higher in their own hierarchy.

Would he really allow Wang Xiao to escape that easily?

Or did his abilities simply work differently than Wang Xiao assumed?

Either way, he wasn't going to stop.

Qian Ruixin was already walking the righteous path—let's see if it actually works for her.

If her method of balancing karma was legit, then maybe he'd have a backup plan.

But until then?

He would continue.

No, he would accelerate.

Faster.

Faster.

Faster.

___

Whoosh!

Without another thought, Wang Xiao leapt through space.

The world blurred, twisted, collapsed.

He reappeared in a place of endless darkness.

In that void, there was only one thing.

A small flickering light.

Faint. Fragile. Yet inexplicably beautiful.

It pulsed gently, growing brighter and more mesmerizing as he approached.

This time, he wouldn't make the same mistake.

With Zeus gone. With Aurora present.

It was time to correct his one fatal error.

Eveline Whitehall.

Aka Artemis.

_____

While Wang Xiao and Xue Hanqin were discussing fate, karma, and the cosmos…

Back in Shanghai—

In one of the many lecture halls of the prestigious Shanghai Center for Advanced Scientific Research—

An evening class was in session.

There was no rowdiness. No interruptions.

The students sat with rapt attention.

Because this was no ordinary lecture.

It was being taught by their idol.

Dr. Isabelle Mercer.

On the massive screen at the front of the room, the title of the lecture flashed—

[Perpetual Motion]

And just like that, the wheels of fate continued turning.

"Dr., isn't perpetual motion just a myth?"

"Right! It can't be achieved at all!"

"It violates the First Law of Thermodynamics!"

A series of voices filled the lecture hall, students confidently voicing their skepticism, logic, and scientific training.

And yet, Isabelle Mercer stood at the podium with a small, knowing smile.

She could hear every word.

She could see their reasoning.

And she could understand exactly how wrong they were.

She didn't rush. Didn't interrupt.

She let them talk, argue, scoff—let the room fill with certainty and doubt.

And then—when the noise finally settled—she spoke.

"You're not wrong," she said, her voice calm, measured. "By our understanding, perpetual motion is impossible."

A few students sighed in relief.

Some slumped in disappointment.

They had come here expecting something groundbreaking, hoping to see a true perpetual motion machine.

They had hoped—just for a moment—that the laws of physics would bend before their eyes.

But no. The doctor confirmed their doubts.

Perpetual motion was a fantasy.

A myth.

Except—

She wasn't done speaking.

Isabelle glanced across the room, her gaze piercing, confident.

"But," she continued, "if you look closely… everything is perpetual motion."

"Huh?"

Her words sent a ripple of confusion through the room.

Some students exchanged glances. Others frowned, waiting for an explanation.

One particularly skeptical voice called out—

"Dr. Mercer, with all due respect, that's impossible. If perpetual motion existed, we'd have infinite energy. Machines would run forever without an energy source. But they don't."

Isabelle's smile widened slightly.

"Ah, but you're only looking at the small picture. The engineered, mechanical picture. You are thinking about devices and engines, things built by human hands. And yes, by our standards, those cannot be perpetual motion machines."

She paused, taking in the sea of questioning eyes.

"But who said perpetual motion only applies to machines?"

The screen behind her flickered to life, revealing an image of the cosmos itself—a vast, swirling galaxy.

"What you fail to realize," she continued, "is that you are already inside a perpetual motion machine. One so massive, so intricate, that you cannot even recognize it."

She gestured at the galaxy projected behind her.

"Let's start at the most fundamental level—energy."

She pointed at a simple equation on the screen:

E(total) = constant

"Energy cannot be created or destroyed. That is the First Law of Thermodynamics."