Fabrication

Zhang Xinglie looked at him. Among Yunhua's classmates, he had always been the most impulsive, forever eager to voice all kinds of opinions.

This was the first time Zhang Xinglie had seen such calm eyes in him.

"Have you decided?"

"I have," Wang Zhenghua said.

Zhang Xinglie said, "I've heard some rumors. You're not the first friend to say this to me. Friends of mine far away in Ru City have said some things too."

Wang Zhenghua said nothing.

"Have things really reached this point?" Zhang Xinglie asked.

Wang Zhenghua slowly said, "The Ten Realms War is right before us, yet the Demon-Worshiping Cult is corroding human civilization. If we do not eradicate the Demon-Worshiping Cult, humanity will undoubtedly be defeated in the Ten Realms War. Rather than wait to fall into the Demon Prison and let Blue Star become the nineteenth level, we might as well do what little we can beforehand."

"You're only at the innate level. Give it a few more years, and you may become a Grandmaster. Your value far exceeds what it is now," Zhang Xinglie said.

"There's no time. They left so many nauseating sins for us descendants, crushing us until we can barely breathe. If we leave them for those who come after us too, then the descendants will die out. Haven't you noticed? There are fewer and fewer descendants being born."

Zhang Xinglie recalled a set of real population statistics he had seen before and found himself unable to refute it.

"Who do you think killed all those descendants who should have been born but never were? My younger brother was almost killed. I don't want his children to be killed too."

Zhang Xinglie's heart trembled.

Recently, he and Liu Shanshan had stopped taking protective measures, intending to let nature take its