Zhang Yu believed that if he wanted to eliminate the influence of the Upper Layer's projected power, then those powers would inevitably move to exclude him.
Yet the Upper Layer's power could not arrive in person, nor could its projected power gather into form, because this world domain could not withstand it. Therefore, it would certainly make use of all kinds of forces already present to restrain him—perhaps people, perhaps spiritual beings.
If so, that was a good thing. He could defeat and diminish them one by one. When two forces clashed, if the stronger side could not gather enough strength into a single powerful blow and instead scattered its power, it would give the other side an opportunity. So long as the other side did not falter on its own, the outcome was already foreseeable.
As he sat here in meditation, in merely a short while, more than half of the spiritual presence throughout the western district had dispersed.
The people of these slums struggled on the line between life and death every day. Their bodies were withered, their faces ashen. They lived one day at a time, when in truth they were merely waiting to die. Coupled with the assimilation of spiritual power, this place had practically become a dead land of utter despair.
But now, as the spiritual creatures retreated, and with no more spiritual power draining emotions and assimilating people, a little vitality began to return to human lives.
For a long time, a pall of gloom had hung over Linhui City, especially over the western slums, where sunlight was scarcely seen all year round.
Yet now, a thread of golden light pierced through the clouds and shone down upon this place. Its warmth seemed to grant people a little more strength, stirring a sliver of