My name is Yan Zhichun.

I am the “Extreme Path King.”

As the ancients said: “Of the three hundred sixty professions, each has its own way, and those who reach the pinnacle are called ‘Extreme Path.'”

Taoism also says: “There are three thousand great paths, and each can lead to divinity.”

But the meaning of “Extreme Path” is to abandon all other great paths and cultivate only one.

But the path we cultivate runs counter to all others—won’t it be too dangerous?

My life didn’t begin to change when I entered the “Land of the End,” but rather when I opened my eyes and saw that white goat—everything was already destined from that moment.

Although three “Zodiacs” always stood in our interview room—a white goat, a Shar-Pei dog, and a sheep—we could only remember that white goat.

The other two “Zodiacs” didn’t even need to speak, and we would all lose to that cold and stern white goat.

The game that appeared at the very beginning was called “The Liar.” The nine of us present needed to tell a story that happened before coming here, then find the liar among us.

It sounded like a very simple game, but in reality, none of us nine knew each other.

We had different backgrounds, professions, hometowns, and ways of doing things—how could we possibly know whether they were lying in their own stories?

It’s difficult for me to explain how much ingenuity that white goat used in this game. I can’t even remember how many times we died in this game, because before the white goat taught me to manipulate “Echo,” I had no way to retain memories at all.

Ironically, none of us nine were powerful “Echoers,” which meant we had no way to preserve memories. Each time was starting over, and we made the exact same choices in the game.

If there was no external interference, we would only repeat the words we said before each time, vote randomly, and ultimately die miserably.

My only supporter was a middle-aged man named Zhang Qiang.

But even if Zhang Qiang and I voted for the Man-Goat, it was useless. We were outnumbered and would still die. This feeling was truly powerless.

I often wondered why that strange white goat would be willing to help me.

In his game, each of us would receive our own identity card, but he wrote a passage on my “identity card.”

He was teaching me how to properly utilize my emotions to obtain “Echo.” I don’t know how many times he wrote this passage, nor do I know how many times he revised it before it became what it is now.

But at the time, I was really curious—as the host in the room, as someone whose physical abilities and intelligence comprehensively surpassed ours, wasn’t everything he did meant to kill us?

Otherwise, why would he host this game that creates “gods”? And why would he gather us from various provinces across such great distances?

But that white goat really did help me. He found the opportunity for my “Echo.”

As long as I tried my utmost to manipulate those who opposed me, I would obtain my exclusive “Echo,” named “Soul Seizure.”

This was an opportunity that ran counter to my past practices. In my life, I had encountered many people who opposed me, but I never deigned to persuade them.

The white goat told me that my “Echo” wasn’t strong enough yet—I could barely “seize hearts.” If one day I could “seize souls,” then I would possess the same ability as the “gods” of this place.

From the day I “Echoed,” I learned many things I had never known before.

For example, I learned that after the “The Liar” game, there were even “Bamboo Shoots After Rain” and “Death From Above.” I also learned that the white goat would commit suicide after the first game. I even found the “Zodiac Ascension Betting Contract” on his corpse and learned what he had been pursuing all along—he didn’t want us all to die in the room. Instead, he hoped we would all go out and take risks, then disappear completely from within the room.

Unfortunately, at the signature section of the contract, his name was always blocked by deep red bloodstains. I didn’t know what to call him.

His voice was cold and he always wore a white goat mask—why not just call him “Brother Sheep”?

Although “Bamboo Shoots After Rain” and “Death From Above” were both quite difficult for me, I had a huge advantage.

That was, everyone in the room would be controlled by me and then make the same movements as me. Coincidentally, whether it was turning the table together or hanging from the ceiling, as long as the “Participants” could make the same movements as me in these two games, there was a high probability of survival.

I didn’t need to consult with them or listen to what they said—I just needed to make them follow along.

In this way, I could successfully use my “Soul Seizure” to lead everyone to escape from the room, then walk through that long corridor and arrive at this mysterious land.

Unfortunately, because I had to forcibly control the remaining eight people to stand here, they held deep resentment toward me. As soon as they arrived in the city, they all distanced themselves from me and began their own adventures.

It was no different from my experiences in the real world—I was always isolated.

Walking on the dark streets, I raised my finger to look at what I wanted to say to myself when I was sixteen—”YNA.”

But was I really not alone?

Although I didn’t want to admit it, people in this world would isolate you for any reason.

Being poor would isolate you, being wealthy would isolate you. Studying too well would isolate you, studying too poorly would still isolate you.

Too hardworking wouldn’t work, too lazy wouldn’t work. Too opinionated wouldn’t work, too lacking in initiative wouldn’t work either.

They couldn’t accept people who were too different from themselves—whether the difference was positive or negative made no difference. People hoped you had no obvious differences from them. Only then would you be considered “the same kind of people,” and only then would they want to “be friends” with you.

So to fit in, people could only become mediocre.

Unfortunately, I understood this principle too late. As a child, in order to fit in and have enough topics to discuss with other classmates, I deliberately spent time watching animations or soap operas I didn’t like. I also once became a fan of the idol group that all the girls in my class were following, just to fit in.

But what was the meaning of all this that I wasted so much time doing?

I felt somewhat regretful that my life actually needed to be lived to accommodate others. Friendship that required humbling oneself and compromising wasn’t friendship to begin with.

Later, Brother Sheep told me that elites in the world are a minority. If you become mediocre to fit in, you will one day become just another person in the crowd, becoming one of the vast multitude, turning into the most common type of person in the world.

A few years later, Brother Sheep told me to surpass the “masses” as much as possible and stand at the pinnacle.

The top of the pyramid definitely requires the fewest bricks.

This was exactly what I thought. To be honest, I didn’t need friends or teammates to begin with. I had a clear understanding of my own life—I just needed to do what I wanted to do.