"Hmm, let me think..."

Bao Dacai pinched his chin and pondered for a moment, "It was the little child Miss Wen picked up. I heard that their parents died early, and the two brothers were both infected with the Dreamless Syndrome and got dragged in together...

But his younger brother wasn't as lucky as him and was eaten."

"Eaten?"

Ji Jue slightly turned his head aside.

"Ah, yes, literally eaten."

The old man made a chewing gesture: "Have you heard of the Desert Banquet Monastery? It's an organization in Central Earth, deeply rooted, and among its branches, there's one called the Great Food Sect. In some places on Thousand Islands, it's even regarded as a legitimate faith.

Their doctrines, they talk about how all spirits were originally one and got fragmented after losing their identity. So, everyone must strive to merge with each other, awaken the deities from within themselves, and all that nonsense.

As for how to merge, that relies on eating. They consider this their holy communion.

They eat to gain life, eat to obtain power, eat to achieve the completion of the soul and eternal life."

"..."

Ji Jue's heart moved, and he suddenly asked, "Punabantu?"

"Yes, that's right, Punabantu is also their territory. It's mainly spread among the natives and tribes. The most famous believer is Aikonzo, the general who killed the president and took power himself. It's said he died under mysterious circumstances later, but guess what?"

Bao Dacai clapped his hands and sighed, "The man was reincarnated!"

The spiritual plague spreading from Punabantu was planned from the start, including Aikonzo's rise to power...

In Ji Jue's moment of slight astonishment, he suddenly understood.

It finally made sense why they wanted to expel the Chongguang Church's medical team and then, all of a sudden, wanted to detain them... It must be because they feared that they might discover some information or clues, right?

"Nowadays, that general is a Saint in this yellow millet dream, high up in the noble circles of Sky City."

The old man slowly said: "It's said that his favorite pastime is personally going around the various dioceses, searching for delicious ingredients, bringing them back after receiving signs, eating them slowly, savoring them carefully.

He eats once, then eats again, until he tires of it, devours them to emptiness, until the consciousness and identity are thoroughly erased, unable to grow back, leaving only an empty shell..."

The two devout brothers, encountering such a person, thought they had found their savior and opportunity, being led away to serve the sacred rites.

One worked diligently outside, praying without rest, while the other devoutly served inside, bathing in divine grace.

What was thought to be a bright future and a beautiful dream was utterly shattered on the day of their reunion.

In the garbage heap, that once-familiar empty shell.

In the foul leftovers and waste, the broken shell emitted sounds again and again, unable to remember itself, forgetting others as well, yet still calling out the brother's name.

Over and over.

Echoing at the end of the darkness...

"...Having gone through such things, only turning out this way, I must say, is understandable."

The old man sighed softly, rolling the leaf tobacco in his hand, licking the paper leaf, sticking it together, lighting it, and exhaling gently, whereupon the rising smoke surged, transforming into various illusions, dancing and dissipating.

He squinted his eyes, murmuring quietly, "Though it's a Dream Shadow, why is it more cruel than reality?"

Ji Jue did not answer.

He merely lowered his eyes, staring into the fire in the furnace.

Black as night, red as blood.

In the silent surge, the flames had long since provided the answers to everything.

The time is ripe.

"Please bring him over for me."

Ji Jue paused for a moment, speaking softly: "Just tell him..."

"There is a gift from the devil, wanting to be given to him."

.

.

A few minutes later, a dirt-covered teenager arrived at the Chicken Foot House, with his face still somewhat bruised, seeming to have gotten into a fight again.

Looking at the strange scene inside the Chicken Foot House, he seemed a bit uneasy, then appeared to muster up some courage, and rudely stepped on the carpet, leaving a few dirty footprints.

Coldly glancing at Bao Dacai and Ji Jue.

As if ready for an argument at any second.

Bao Dacai took a drag from his leaf tobacco unconcernedly, as if he was used to it, glanced at them, and, saying "you two talk," lay down on the rocking chair to the side.

"Tch, pretending to be mysterious..."

The teen stuffed his hands into his pockets, eyed Ji Jue sideways: "What's the matter? Hurry up, I've got things to do."

"What things? Fighting?"

Ji Jue stood before the furnace, talking without turning his head: "Fighting with people in the camp, whether you win or lose, what changes?"

"It's none of your business."

The teen frowned, impatient, glaring at his profile. Ji Jue seemed unperturbed, remaining calm as ever, even the slight curve at the corner of his mouth unchanged.

Seemingly gentle.

Pretentious, putting on a show...

That was what he wanted to say, but before he could, he got stuck. For some reason, seeing this person who seemed like he might topple over with two spins made him faintly afraid, but the more fearful he became, the more he wanted to futilely prove his courage.

Glare.

"I fight if I want to, so what? What's the big deal?"

"Then go fight, finding something you want to do is also good." Ji Jue fiddled with the tools, turning things over in the fire, unhurriedly: "If you can find a way to escape nightmares, all the better, but can you really forget? Those things you wish to forget."

For a moment, the teenager's face flushed, his fists subconsciously clenched, glaring, yet he froze there, seemingly hesitating, and perhaps... fearful.

"It's not your business!"

"Hmm, indeed." Ji Jue nodded, unconcernedly skipping over the suffering irrelevant to him, merely asking, "By the way, what's your name again?"

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