Bamboo Pole was already exploring and thinking about the underlying mechanisms of "Inner and Outer Earth."
But young man, trust me, this is beyond you!
Ronan shook his head and typed into the friends' group chat: "As far as I know, there isn't another you on 'Outer Earth,' but you could look for family and friends—older relatives who went missing after the Third World War, for instance."
Bamboo Pole immediately replied: "So it's more about physical duplication and separation? Everyone's randomly distributed between Inner and Outer Earth? That's easier to accept than 'parallel spacetime' and the like. I don't want a death match with another equally outstanding me to decide which of us deserves to live."
Surprisingly few people responded to the joke. Clearly, everyone had something weighing on their minds.
That was not a good sign.
Things were not as simple as Bamboo Pole imagined. Well, perhaps he had thought more deeply about it, but expressed himself relatively cautiously.
Human thought and imagination were not to be underestimated. Yet under the illusory nightmare system's mode of operation, thought was not a tool for distinguishing truth from illusion or reality from unreality, nor could gathered information serve as material for analysis and reference. They were more like fuses, ready at any moment to detonate the chaotic bomb beneath appearances and cause irreversible destruction.
If even Bamboo Pole was like this, then with the information society acting as a catalyst, who knew how many people would fall into this lethal trap and be lost forever?
Frankly, such a situation was ideal for the Tattered Divine Cloak, and Ronan himself, to harvest feedback. Every living being dissolved into ambiguity and chaos could count as nourishment. Each individual contributed little, but something was better than nothing, and ten billion people together would amount