As the zone numbers kept changing, the surroundings began to change as well.
At first, there were still towering ancient trees that looked vividly lifelike.
The veins in every leaf were clearly visible.
But the deeper he went into Zone B, the rougher the world became.
The trees gradually lost their textures.
The distant mountain ranges began to show obvious jagged edges.
Even the clouds in the sky turned into blurry patches of color.
Accordingly,
the deduction notices on Wu Zhangkong's account grew smaller and smaller.
[-37]
[-12]
[-3]
Until he truly entered Zone B-7.
[-1]
Wu Zhangkong stopped walking.
The silence around him was terrifying.
This place could no longer be called a forest.
As far as the eye could see, blurry mist floated everywhere.
Some vaguely resembled human figures.
Others were merely clusters of constantly flickering colors.
They had no clear facial features.
No complete bodies.
Even their outlines looked as if someone had casually smeared them out with a cheap paintbrush.
Mosaic.
That was the first word that surfaced in Wu Zhangkong's mind.
The next moment,
his heart sank heavily.
Of course, he knew what this meant.
Insufficient computing power.
The server capacity allocated to this area was nowhere near enough to support these souls in maintaining high-resolution forms.
The slums.
Those three words practically stabbed into Wu Zhangkong's mind.
He had always thought that since Universe held Long Bing's soul in its grasp,
and had deliberately let him know that she still existed, then regardless of its motives, it would at least not let Bing'er live too badly.
At the very least—
it should let her stay alive.
But what was this place?
She could not even maintain the most basic soul form!
Wu Zhangkong's face instantly turned pale.
He did not dare think any further.