In the Fourth Hell, two figures suddenly fell from midair and slammed heavily into the ground.
Igula immediately sat up and looked around. When he realized it was just him and Harvey nearby, he subconsciously breathed a sigh of relief, only for complicated emotions to surge back into his heart. He rubbed his temples to dispel the excess thoughts in his mind, and only then did he realize he seemed to have arrived somewhere strange.
He was sitting on a vast Great Grassland. The grass was soft and dry, without the slightest earthy smell. A warm breeze gently brushed his face, and bright sunlight was veiled by white clouds, leaving heaven and earth luminous without being dazzling.
Even across the twenty-plus years of Igula's life, he had never seen such comfortable, beautiful scenery. In that instant, Igula even wondered whether he had left hell and returned to the human world.
"So beautiful..."
The dark-skinned curly-haired man extinguished the white flames on his face, widened his eyes as he looked at this world, and praised it from the bottom of his heart.
Igula froze, then immediately realized something was wrong. "Harvey, what do you think is so beautiful?"
"Huh? Do you even need to ask? Of course it's the skulls piled into mountains, the bones arranged like dense forests. Look at the ground—hair spread into carpets, flesh rotted into mud. Tsk, tsk, tsk..." Harvey spread his arms, took a deep breath, and sighed sincerely. "Such fresh air, filled with the scent of decay... Could this be Heaven?"
"Normal people's imaginations of hell aren't even as terrifying as what you're seeing," Igula said irritably. "But not seeing the world in your eyes is indeed Heaven to me. I see. So this is the Fourth Hell—Illusion Hell."
"Huh? So everything I'm seeing is