"The signal is terrible!"
Elf complained that she had not seen such ridiculously bad reception in years.
"You're the representative of the War Temple now. Stop fidgeting."
Franz, seated beside her, practically wanted to pin her down.
At that moment, they had all assumed the identities of representatives from various internal organizations of the Earth United Government and were watching the Hunger Games.
Since they were promoting the idea that civilization had been lost, the surveillance methods were crude and rudimentary.
Naturally, unclear footage was normal.
As for why they were participating in person, it was of course because doing so made it more authentic.
As for the Earth United Government's higher-ups, they all knew the truth.
Elf did not care whether these people had any thoughts of overthrowing the aliens and restoring civilization. As long as they obediently followed orders, that was enough.
As for faith in the Divine Son of Combat, it had actually begun spreading long ago.
She did not even need devout believers. As the Hunger Games began, the Power of Faith of the Divine Son of Combat exploded, and it was exceptionally pure and high-quality.
It had to be said that Fissman was a genius for coming up with such a good idea.
All it took was a few cameras and the lives of several hundred participants to harvest such pure Power of Faith.
With their own interests at stake and hunger tormenting them, the entire planet was paying intense attention to this game and becoming engrossed in its contestants.
As the competition progressed, divine powers such as slaughter, death, conspiracy, and combat continued to rise.
Sitting at the venue, Elf could clearly feel her power growing, even beyond her expectations.
"As long as we control the scale properly, we can hold the Hunger Games