Goto Yoshi could see one—no, two—"fruits" hanging from the upper branches of the burning "thicket." Broken, raised patterns wound around them, some thick, some thin, some blue, some red. Those were...
Blood vessels!
His consciousness jolted violently. His thoughts merged with the pathways of those blood vessels, and in an instant, he understood exactly what those "fruits on the thicket" were:
They were "eyeballs"—his eyeballs, or at least eyeballs nominally belonging to him!
The two "eyeballs" reflected each other. Together with the flesh, skeleton, and neural functions behind them, they pieced together a complete field of vision—and reflected the truth.
It was a bloody reality that Goto Yoshi, bound by his framework as a human being, could never have experienced!
At that moment, every corner of Goto Yoshi's mind was smeared with bizarre, kaleidoscopic colors. There was no logical connection between any patches of color. They were the colors of "collapse."
Even so, drawn by those "eyeballs," Goto Yoshi clearly saw his Negative Emotions, wrapped in the vital essence of flesh and blood. One portion remained within the burning "thicket," within the rule system of the Fusang Divine Tree Great Divine Treasure, venting at last, meaninglessly, through sunlight and heat that had accumulated yet found no use.
The other portion merged with the similarly colored emotional smoke and dust of the people at the Passenger Terminal, whose hearts had already been seized by terror. Driven by an invisible force field, they plunged into the depths of the "cloak" around Mister Mo—and into an incomprehensible level of existence.
It was incomprehensible, but at last, he had seen it.
That pitiful fragment of his own trait twisted and tore in the gaps between conflicting rules, until it completely evaporated.
His last shred of reason ended there.
Goto Yoshi no longer had any