After a bout of awkward dancing, Ye Buyu and the others had gone completely numb and begun questioning their lives.
What on earth had these people come here to do?
When the camera turned toward the venue, the packed audience and the people in the competitors' seats had been rendered utterly speechless. Wave after wave of questioning voices spread, and some people even stood on their seats, rolled up their sleeves, and began hurling abuse.
"Zero points! What the hell was that? My eyes!"
"Hurry up and start the competition! Get off the stage, host!"
"Who the hell wants to watch a bunch of Calamities preen and pose? Are you sick?"
Only Ye Buyu saw something different.
What she saw was a group of people in ragged clothing, praying for hope amid despair, who finally fell to the ground with peaceful expressions and never rose again.
The God-Praying Dance, a performance in its repertoire...
It was probably a fragment of history from some world that [Withered Glory Theatre] had witnessed.
She rubbed her chin. "I really haven't seen that before. It needs a story narrator. Tsk, just when we need narration, they stop doing it."
Hold Up the Heavens: ...
The five of them understood instantly. Ye Buyu's miraculous ability to see through appearances to the essence of things had kicked in again.
Number Seven wore a calm smile. "Hahaha, it seems everyone wasn't very fond of the performance we prepared. That's all right. We have a second plan: the Calamity Orchestra, assembled and trained overnight using culture collected from the Present World.
"So no one can say we're just entertaining ourselves, we've also arranged a guest participation segment and specially prepared instruments for you, so everyone can join in!"
Number Seven raised her hand, and instruments appeared out of