Propagation

"Other ghosts must kill to survive, and only by killing can they sustain their existence," Wang Yuan thought. "Every time they kill, they absorb the resentment and unwillingness of the deceased. If this continues, ghosts only grow more ferocious."

"Of course, it's more likely that a ghost might not even be able to kill a single person." Wang Yuan drifted lightly around the corpse, absorbing the White Qi. Even as he was now, killing a person without the help of the crows would be extremely difficult.

He had to get extremely close to the person, then use his own White Qi to neutralize the target's White Qi—which carried their own willpower—and finally use his weak Interference Force to disrupt the target's fragile internal organs. If the target were robust and strong, he might not even succeed in killing them.

"So, it's truly difficult for a ghost to develop," Wang Yuan thought, considering how to deal with the remaining seven people. Killing them all would be a waste, and to avoid being infected by the negative emotions of the dead, he couldn't absorb their White Qi.

"The reason I was polluted was that when I absorbed them, their final emotions were pain, unwillingness, and resentment." Wang Yuan recalled a certain type of person. "But what if they died while feeling calm, or even joyful and pleased?"

"This is actionable." Wang Yuan recalled information from the memories of the person he had absorbed. "Negary, the God of Disease and Omen?"

"Based on this person's memories, the system didn't lie back then; this world really is just a low-magic world." Wang Yuan believed that gods existed in this world—after all, transmigration had happened, so the existence of gods wasn't too outlandish—but he didn't believe this low-magic world possessed true gods.

"After all, it can't be like the Sakura Country, where a single territory has eight million gods."

In this person's memory, the world was divided into many races based on region. For instance, they were the Kexi People, and the Kexi People assigned divine names to all things. There was Negary, symbolizing disease and omen; the Goddess Menas, symbolizing misfortune; the Goddess of Twigs, symbolizing new life; and many other gods symbolizing the various things they encountered.

Depending on the depth of their faith, most of these people were only shallow believers. For example, deer were considered messengers of the Goddess of Luck, Riels. Legend had it that anyone who killed a deer would be abandoned by Riels and pointed out to her sister, Menas. But if you placed a deer in front of a hunting party now, you'd see whether they killed it or not.

When it didn't affect their own interests, they would observe the taboos of certain "gods," but once it involved their own survival, they wouldn't care much at all.

"So, the older, experienced members of the team must die," Wang Yuan thought.

Some people's faith changed periodically. In their youth, they might retain some awe, but after experiencing more of life, they would understand these things were false. Interestingly, once people reached old age, they would conversely begin to pay attention to these things again.

"I only need to do one thing: break them, then dominate them." Wang Yuan was a quick learner. That was how the system had treated him—the system broke him, dominated his life and death, and dominated his protagonist halo. Now, if he wanted to survive—to survive better—he needed to do the same.

Hearing the noise growing louder over there, Wang Yuan ordered the crows still pecking at the corpse to fly away, waiting quietly by the body.

With the current integrity of his soul, Wang Yuan perceived the germs within the crows with increasing clarity. He could feel those germs constantly mutating, which consumed a massive amount of the crows' stamina, causing them to eat incessantly.

"As expected, at this rate, the crows won't live long." Wang Yuan waited quietly. "Stronger, I need to be stronger!"

Before long, the hunting party arrived with weapons and discovered the unrecognizable corpse. The bearded Dax's face looked uncertain under the flickering light of the torches.

It wasn't as if members hadn't died during previous hunting trips, but this time was different. It was inexplicable; a man had just died like that, without even letting out a scream. A sense of foreboding grew in his heart.

However, as the leader, Dax didn't show his unease; otherwise, if the people panicked, the team would be hard to manage.

"Bury Naike's body right here..." Dax said, then suddenly narrowed his eyes. He picked up a black feather from the ground and, looking at the wounds on the corpse, said sternly, "Keep your weapons on you. Watch out for attacks from above."

"A follower of Negary? Has Negary set his sights on us?" Komoro looked at the black feather and said with some fear.

"What are you talking about!" Dax's face darkened. "Why would Negary set his sights on us? This is just an accident. Those who are fine, go to sleep. Those on watch, just stay alert."

Although the others looked uneasy, they didn't refute Dax's words. Two men who were close to Naike worked together to lift his mangled body to the side and began digging a pit to bury him.

Though the two burying the body were sad, they didn't pay it much mind. Life in this world was like this: dying of hunger, dying in conflicts with the Kente People, dying of disease, or dying in beast attacks. They had seen too much of this life and death.

They threw the body into the pit, breathing in the scent of soil and the stench of blood, and covered it with dirt bit by bit.

The pit wasn't deep. Perhaps before long, a beast would follow the scent of blood, dig up the pit, and have a hearty meal. But the two didn't care; burying him now was just for their own peace of mind.

The two looked at the filled-in pit, panting continuously. They felt an unprecedented exhaustion, which left them puzzled. As a hunting team, having poor health was a joke on their own lives. It was just digging a pit to bury a body; why were they so tired?

"Cough, cough. Something isn't right," one said, coughing. "It's not that cold tonight. Why do I feel dizzy?"

"I feel it too. Let's hurry back to the fire and sleep." The other's face looked poor. This period had been too unlucky; there wasn't enough prey, someone had died, and now they were showing signs of illness.

The two ran back to the fire. The person on watch asked why they had taken so long. They gave a few casual excuses, drank some hot water, and lay down by the fire to sleep, praying constantly to the God of Robustness, Herro, hoping that when they woke up tomorrow morning, their illness would be cured.

Wang Yuan drifted beside them, watching the White Qi outside their bodies gradually weaken, saying nothing.