At that moment, in the Real World, dark clouds filled the sky. A storm loomed over the gloomy landscape, and the wild grass lay flattened against the ground.
In a secluded cemetery, the gravestones stood in neat rows. Some had been wiped spotless, with offerings piled before them; others had been swallowed by rampant weeds.
In front of a gravestone overgrown with foxtail grass, Yue Xiamo held an urn and gently laid down a bouquet of white roses.
"Listen, Chen, you've been dead for five years. I know you were hopelessly lovesick, but that boy you liked is getting married today. Furious, aren't you? Then hurry up and crawl out to find him. What terrible taste in men you had!"
"Since instances and Hell really exist, I've been wondering: are you in an instance, or in Hell? Surely your soul isn't still wandering around this world."
"..."
Yue Xiamo sighed.
Then she heard another sigh from the other end of the cemetery.
It came from the Martial Arts Hall's people. Zhang Mingqi, Zhang Ninde, and Wang Jinghe, three of its leading figures, stood before a gravestone, their faces expressionless but tinged with sorrow.
She remembered now. Buried here was not only her friend, but also Li Yunshen, the Martial Arts Hall's third senior brother, who had died young.
Visiting the graves was only a secondary reason for their gathering here. More importantly, contact with the instance had been lost, yet the rain kept falling. According to the frequencies transmitted from inside the instance, the opening into that out-of-control instance was right here.
Anyone who entered this cemetery would be indiscriminately sucked into the instance, becoming a player without warning.
The authorities had sealed off the area as quickly as possible. To avoid causing panic, they had imposed an information blackout