Chapter 131: The Real World

Just at this moment, Ding Mo suddenly felt a sharp pain in his brain.

"Hiss..." A familiar sense of chaos surged forth once again.

While Ding Mo was in pain, he was also startled!

This feeling... isn't this the same feeling he had when his memories were in chaos?

Could it be that he still has deeply hidden memories that haven't fully awakened?

"Is what he said fake? Is that why I had a reaction?" Ding Mo endured the discomfort and began to ponder.

"No, it's also possible that what he said is true, which caused me to remember something..."

This turn of events also allowed Ding Mo to snap out of the truth just revealed by the stubble-bearded man.

He stood up, paced around the room, and struggled to digest this massive amount of information!

The human world has already been destroyed... It wasn't just the 'Lost Ones' from back then; everyone in this world has been replaced by those Guaishou...

Not only that, they... no, they continue to disguise themselves as humans to maintain the operation of society? Including food, clothing, housing, and transportation, as well as daily necessities.

But why would they do this?

Ding Mo muttered frantically to himself.

This world has also fallen into madness, perhaps even worse than the world where the Processing Bureau is located!

How could he accept this? This is his "home"!

"By the way, what is this 'Three Human Anti-Deprivation Wars' you mentioned?"

The stubble-bearded man, who had been fiddling with the fireplace, said:

"Ah, that, it is actually the three resistance struggles launched by all victimized humans united together. The aim was to crush the 'Guaishou's' deprivation of Identity and corruption of power in the human world, and to break the 'Guaishou's' attempt to eliminate humans and destroy the human world.

"The first war was set in motion by the desperate counterattack of a 'Lost One'."

As he spoke, a look of reverence actually appeared on his face:

"That predecessor, his name was Ding Mo."

? Ding Mo, who was still pacing, paused and turned his head to look at him:

"What did you say?"

"I said his name was Ding Mo." The stubble-bearded man thoughtfully raised his volume slightly and continued under Ding Mo's suspicious gaze:

"He was a child from a poor family, yet he possessed unparalleled leadership qualities!

"By publicly committing suicide in society, he made the 'Guaishou' that were imitating him disappear! This opened the first door of resistance for the 'Lost Ones' and blew the horn for the initial struggle.

"Later, we called the suicide attack movement of the 'Lost Ones' that he triggered the 'First Human Anti-Deprivation War'."

Ding Mo was astonished.

This "Ding Mo" was most likely him, without a doubt—before he committed suicide, there were others in the organization who committed suicide, but he had never heard of anyone's suicide having such a great influence.

The fact that his suicide caused such a huge impact meant the method worked!

"But, the war failed quickly." However, the stubble-bearded man's next words made the atmosphere dim again.

He sat back down on the wooden chair and sighed slightly:

"We used every possible method to imitate Mr. Ding Mo and carried out 'social death' style assassinations against the Guaishou. Although some were successful, and we temporarily regained power in the national high-level and established several safe zones.

"But those Guaishou, not long after disappearing, were resurrected! It was as if as long as each of us lived in this world for one day, new Guaishou that looked exactly like us would appear; they were impossible to kill off, and banning them was useless.

"Because of this reason, the 'First Human Anti-Deprivation War' ended in complete failure. We paid a huge price, yet we had to start looking for new ways to struggle..."

As he spoke at length, Ding Mo had already stopped in front of the window.

His gaze reflected several figures in the distance.

Who were they? Ding Mo looked at them, digesting the information about the 'war' while some doubts arose in his heart.

Each of them was strangely carrying a huge wooden board, and they were also looking over here from afar. But they seemed very vigilant and had no intention of approaching.

"As for the second war..."

The stubble-bearded man was about to continue, but Ding Mo suddenly interrupted him—he turned his head and stared fixedly at the former:

"Alright, having said so much, why should I believe you?

"When it comes down to it, this is just your one-sided story! How do I know how much of it is true and how much is false?"

"..." The stubble-bearded man fell silent.

Facing Ding Mo's questioning and intense gaze, after a long while, he said:

"Everything I said is the truth; I have absolutely no intention of deceiving you.

"If you want to verify it, or if you aren't afraid of death, you can go home and take a look. I mean your former home.

"You also used to live in this city, right? Go to your parents' or relatives' homes and take a look—you must walk into their rooms when they are not there.

"Then open their wardrobes, or look under their beds; in short, check every hiding spot in the room that could contain a 'person', and you will see the 'proof' you want."

As the stubble-bearded man spoke, he seemed somewhat terrified; after finishing, he said no more, and even the hand holding the teacup was trembling slightly.

The so-called "proof" seemed to be an extremely ominous thing.

There was something in the room...

And Ding Mo, after looking at him for a long time, turned and walked out the door.

Arriving at the open space between the abandoned factory buildings, Ding Mo discovered that the group of people who had been observing this place had already left silently.

He couldn't even find any traces; they seemed quite well-trained.

"..." Ding Mo had wanted to make contact with them to obtain more intelligence and verify the information at hand.

Now it seemed he had no choice but to use the stubble-bearded man's method.

The possible terrifying truth of this world made him unable to sit still for even a moment.

"If everything he said is true, including my family, the humans of this world are almost all dead. Then, where should I go?"

On the desolate open-air road, Ding Mo walked silently toward the city alone.

Located in the suburbs, few figures could be seen here, and weeds grew wildly along the roadside.

Dead silence, desolation, and decay seemed to be the true tip of the iceberg of this world...

Meanwhile, in another corner of the factory, inside a certain warehouse.

Those few people carrying huge black wooden boards—or rather, coffins—gathered within, seemingly discussing something.

"That guy's home actually has a guest? It's somewhat unusual, A Chu, should we..."

A man wearing a school uniform unstrapped the coffin that was taller than him, stood it on the ground, and replied with his arms crossed against it:

"No, the Typewriter's Task is usually carried out by multiple people; he might not be a Polluter of the Isolation Zone."

"But we should try to make contact, right? How long have we been trapped in this damn world..." the woman said, unwilling to give up.

"A Chu, I also agree with Qing Yao's opinion," someone in the team said:

"Lao Wang's death a few weeks ago shows that even as things are now, there is a limit to how long we can hold on."

The mention of Lao Wang in his words made the expressions of the few grow somewhat dim.

"Since that's the case," the man in the school uniform sighed upon seeing this, and finally made the decision:

"Let's invite him over to be a guest."

Just as they were talking, the "guest" had already ventured deeper into the city, walking into familiar streets...