His past self did not refuse the young man's request. He accepted the proposal calmly and decisively.
For one thing, devoid of emotions and sensations, he needed a goal. He needed to feel something, and only a goal could make him feel something—perhaps something like relief or exhilaration.
He needed such emotions. Otherwise, one day, he would truly feel that he had become a robot, knowing only how to mechanically repeat the labor of surviving these nightmares.
Even his past self, who could not feel emotions or sensations, found that soulless state unbearable.
And this young man happened to be able to give him a goal—a long-term goal, a goal that could make him feel alive.
Second, he had no other choice. Although this young man wore a sincere expression, and his sunny smile made him seem like someone one could discuss anything with, someone who would not mind being refused and posed no cause for concern.
But this guy was a terrifying existence who had wiped out ten thousand people within ten minutes without changing expression, an existence that completely overturned his common sense.
Moreover, he was someone who could stand amid the mountain of corpses and sea of blood behind him, covered in blood and wearing a sunny smile, with scarcely a ripple in his eyes and not the slightest emotion other than calmness.
At the same time, this was the slaughterhouse of humanity—the Nightmare Cycle.
Kindness and sunshine on the surface?
What a joke! If he did not agree, his past self believed that this young man could kill him in less than a second, just as he had wiped out those ten thousand people.
It seemed he had many choices, but in truth, he had none.
The young man had also said that he had observed