My attributes are increasing infinitely Chapter 387: An ultimate taboo

Ethan had always maintained a straightforward primary objective.

He intended to collect every formidable bloodline that ever existed.

Reclaiming what he had lost—his family—would only happen after he achieved the absolute summit of power.

Initially, he believed that sufficient strength would naturally lead him back to his kin.

However, as time progressed, a sense of unease took root.

Whenever Ethan attempted to divine his family’s location, an invisible force obstructed him. It wasn't a physical barrier or a simple concealment spell; it was a total void. The karmic threads that should have served as his guide simply ceased to exist, vanishing into a localized darkness where even his divine perception was rendered useless.

Could it be fate?

The mere thought left him feeling restless.

He was a master of the Law of Fate and the Law of Karma. The very principles of cause and effect submitted to his command. With a mere flicker of his intent, he could unravel destinies that had been woven through countless eras.

Despite this, the karmic threads linked to his family always terminated in that abyss.

It was a realm where laws were stripped of their meaning.

A place shrouded from even his sight.

Was fate itself pushing back against him?

Or did this mystery exist entirely outside the boundaries of fate?

"Am I walking toward a dead end?"

The sudden realization gripped his mind.

Ethan came to a halt mid-flight.

The fabric of space vibrated as he descended onto a desolate planet drifting on the fringes of an obscure star system. The world was a graveyard—no atmosphere, no spiritual energy veins, and no ancient ruins to speak of.

It was the perfect location.

With a casual wave of his hand, Ethan deployed a barrier that enveloped the entire planet. He layered isolation techniques so densely that no cosmic perception could hope to breach the seal.

Only then did he settle into a cross-legged position on the fractured ground.

His eyes drifted shut.

For the first time in an age, Ethan refrained from Cultivation.

Instead, he began to reflect.

He looked back to the very start of his path.

His first transmigration into this world.

The moment his system awakened.

His initial strides as a humble martial artist.

Every Cultivation realm he had breached.

Every Law he had successfully mastered.

Each foe that had crossed his path at just the right moment.

Every ancient inheritance that had fallen into his lap exactly when he required it.

Even the discovery of his past life's secrets had occurred with suspicious timing, as if the cosmos had waited until he possessed the strength to endure the truth.

The revelation remained vivid in his mind.

His entire journey had not been a series of accidents.

This life, this world, and his immense power were all instruments forged to propel his past self out of a cycle of eternal stagnation.

He had accepted that reality at the time.

He was undeniably growing more powerful.

Yet, regardless of how high he ascended, a stronger figure always stood above him.

Every peak he conquered only revealed a taller mountain beyond.

Every triumph merely served as a gateway to a more dangerous battlefield.

Was there an end to this?

Would there ever be a day when he truly held the reins of his own destiny?

Or was he simply following a track laid down by another entity?

The path was so flawlessly constructed that straying from it seemed impossible.

"Let’s think out of the box."

The idea emerged spontaneously.

Immediately, a strange phenomenon occurred.

A creeping discomfort settled in Ethan’s heart.

It was a sensation he hadn't felt in centuries.

Suddenly, he felt like a puppet—a masterfully designed marionette performing on invisible strings.

What if he was being observed?

What if his entire existence was nothing more than a performance for the amusement of a higher power?

The image formed vividly in his mind.

Higher beings lounging before a massive screen, laughing and drinking while placing bets on his next move.

His fist tightened.

"No. That’s ridiculous."

But even as he tried to brush it off, the suspicion lingered.

"I am nothing more than a talented copycat."

The weight of that realization hit him with staggering force.

The Cultivation techniques, the bloodline evolutions, the mastery over Laws...

Had he actually created any of it?

Or was he merely mimicking things that had existed long before him?

The inquiry delved deeper.

What about the very first being? The one at the dawn of all Cultivation.

Did that entity gain power through struggle, or were they born with it?

And if they were born powerful, what was the source of power itself? Where did the concept of Cultivation even begin?

For the first time, Ethan reached out and touched the ultimate taboo.

The origin of all things.

If a god emerges from nothingness, then what defines that nothingness? Where does it reside?

The moment his mind crossed that threshold, a mental explosion rocked his skull.

Bang.

Agony sliced through his consciousness.

Ethan’s frame shuddered violently.

Despite his genesis-level physique and soul, the pain was agonizing. It felt as though his very being was revolting against the question he had dared to pose.

His sight failed him, and his mind was filled with screams.

Yet, he refused to let the thought go.

He could feel it. He was nearing the truth.

Suddenly, a fragment of memory from his previous life surfaced: Cantor’s Infinity.

Between the integers one and two, there are an infinite number of values. An unending sequence.

No matter how many times you divide the space between them, you can never reach the end.

Yet all those infinite points are still confined between one and two. They can never actually become two.

A cold shiver raced through his soul.

Was he trapped in such a system? Could he continue to cultivate forever, refining his strength for eternity, yet never reach the ultimate conclusion? Was he stuck between one and two?

Regardless of his power, would he always be less than "two"?

And if that was true... who occupied the position of "two"? Or "three"?

Were those the entities watching him? Had someone already attained that state and built this infinite loop as his cage?

Ethan’s mouth felt parched, and his breath grew shallow.

He realized a terrifying truth: only because of his infinite comprehension was he even capable of perceiving this problem.

No other soul in this reality could even grasp the concept of such a question.

Boom.

His consciousness was suddenly and violently snatched away.

There was no transition or preamble.

One second he was there; the next, he was in a void.

Ethan opened his eyes to see nothingness.

But it wasn't just dark. It felt like trying to see behind one's own head.

The restriction wasn't in the environment; it was fundamental to his being. He couldn't perceive anything because the very concept of perception didn't apply here.

For the first time, Ethan felt truly fragile.

His power had vanished. His Laws were gone. His authority was worthless.

His soul shook with uncontrollable tremors.

Then, two crimson eyes flickered open in the void. They were immense—larger than entire worlds, larger than realities themselves.

An overwhelming presence bore down on him, and a voice resonated within his mind.

"Your thoughts have crossed a forbidden line."

"You are prohibited from thinking further."

"Continue, and your existence will be erased."

The voice was devoid of emotion, carrying only the weight of absolute finality.

In the next heartbeat, Ethan’s mind was cast back.

He returned to his physical form with a sharp, ragged gasp.

His body was trembling, drenched in a cold sweat. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird.

A desperate thirst consumed him.

It was a bizarre, mortal sensation. He was an immortal—wasn't he? Or was that just an illusion?

Ethan manifested a glass of ice-cold water and drank it down frantically.

It took several long minutes before the shaking in his hands subsided.

He stared at his palms in the silence.

Was he truly immortal, or had he just been playing a part?

He took a deep, steadying breath, and a grim smile slowly touched his lips.

"So, I really am in a cage."

"But I am Ethan Hunt."

"No cage can hold me forever."

"I will shatter it."

He stood up, his gaze hardening with resolve.

"I will forge something that is entirely my own. Something you bastards will never be able to foresee."

He understood it wouldn't be simple. Creating an entirely new Cultivation system from nothing wasn't the work of a day.

Until then, he would play their game. He would abide by their rules—but only on the surface.

What truly intrigued him now was his system. Unlike everything else in this world, the system felt... different. It seemed detached, as if it weren't bound by the same infinite loop.

If he could develop a new Cultivation method and fuse it with the system, then growth within their loop would become irrelevant. He would evolve in a way that transcended their boundaries.

He didn't need to perfect the entire plan right now. He only needed one thing: a lever. Something to pry him out of the gap between one and two.

Ethan took a step forward and resumed his trek.

He would claim the Throne of Destiny. And when the moment arrived, he would make a wish that directly defied those superior beings.

He would wish to become invisible to all prying eyes—even those at number two, and even those watching from beyond the veil.

Would they allow it? Or would they attempt to strike him down? But wouldn't that create a contradiction? The established rules stated that the Emperor of Destiny could have any wish granted.

Ethan smirked.

He knew one fundamental truth: even for powerful beings, contradictions had to be resolved.