Hard to Tell What's Real
Qin Shu looked at me curiously. "What's wrong?"
"I was thinking about something..." I furrowed my brow.
At Workers and Peasants Sixth Village, I'd seen ghosts being driven into the entrance to another dimension.
I'd only seen it happen once, but judging by the number of ghosts gathered there and the way they were dressed, I could roughly estimate how long the Underworld had been accumulating them to amass such a large number.
It had been a planned, coordinated operation.
The god of the real world had always wanted to use monsters to wipe out the future world. They might kill every living person—and perhaps every ghost, too—until this place became a land without a master.
Just as the future world had created Toy Town and Yangshan District, the real world wasn't simply taking a beating without fighting back.
The tug-of-war wasn't happening only in the real world. It was happening here, too.
Many cities and many people here had been destroyed.
I'd already come to understand the future world's long-standing affliction: its population problem. Too many people here had died, and there weren't enough newborns to make up for it. Yet there was no way to stop the deaths. Ghost Kings drew their power from ordinary people's fear of death. Conversely, without that fear, what would a Ghost King even be?
Did that fear still exist now?
They should fear monsters no less than they feared Ghost Kings.
After they died, they all had a chance to become Ghost Kings.
Even if they feared death out of instinct...
That instinct made no sense. They lived in a world where everyone had a chance to become a Ghost King. Why would they still fear being killed?
This wasn't the real world. It wasn't like Ruan