"Young man, you're about to die."
Qin Yang looked at the young man before him and said it as naturally as could be.
The young man sat blankly on a rock as though performing some kind of behavioral art, hunched over with his head raised, mouth hanging open, his lifeless eyes staring at the sky.
His dream world contained only black, white, and gray. Everything seemed to be withering bit by bit from the end of the world toward where he stood.
Even in this entirely illusory dream world of his, such a sign basically pointed to only one possibility.
This fellow was about to die. He was already at death's door, and his actual body had fallen unconscious.
What manifested in a person's dreams was most directly connected to that person's experiences. Based on Qin Yang's previous experience monitoring other Dead Spirits using dream transmission, he could tell quite a few things at a glance.
For example, this fellow's heart was filled with unwillingness. That was why, when the world collapsed, it did so from the outside inward. He still did not want to die.
This fellow was a cultivator. His strength was not particularly high, but Qin Yang could roughly place him somewhere between the Divine Sea and Spirit Platform realms.
His background should have been neither too high nor too low.
Putting all the information together, Qin Yang could roughly infer that this fellow belonged to the middle tier among cultivators. He was no expert, but within his own faction, he should have been the sort of person who held things up as a central pillar.
The most suitable candidate possible.
Qin Yang drifted over, floating before the fellow.
The man who had been staring blankly at the sky seemed to recover a little awareness, and light