On a field ridge, a farmer with his pant legs rolled up was planting crops.
He raised his hand, pressing his index and middle fingers together, and pointed toward the sky.
Fine threads of rain fell from the clouds, watering the cracked earth before him.
Water droplets seeped into the ground, turning the soil a deep brown.
He changed direction and pointed at another field. The rain followed his finger, nourishing the land.
After a moment, the farmer stopped casting his spell, and the rain ceased as well.
He sighed, looking at the endless fields. If he had to farm all this land alone, how long would it take to water everything?
He had never learned a proper rain-making spell. The light rain he summoned could only cover a small area at a time. By the time he finished watering all the fields, the first one he started with would be dry again.
He bent down and picked up a pinch of soil, rubbing it between his fingers. It was incredibly dry.
Suddenly, a rumble echoed from the sky, and the clouds began to churn.
Dark clouds surged from all directions, gathering together as a true downpour began to fall.
The rain pelted the parched fields, nourishing the farmland.
The farmer was overjoyed, but then he grew puzzled. “Wait, who is casting a spell to make it rain?”
Little Red Riding Hood walked over from the other end of the ridge, her red cloak exceptionally striking amidst the curtain of rain.
“Uncle, what is this place? And why are you farming?”
With Little Red Riding Hood’s eyes, she could easily see that this farmer’s strength was at least at the demigod level. Although his aura was perfectly restrained, that sense of weightiness emanating from his very bones was almost integrated with the earth itself.
Why would someone with this kind of strength be working so hard in the fields?
Was it a personal hobby?
The farmer wiped the rainwater from his face with his sleeve and gave a bitter smile. “I didn't have the money to go to school. Fortunately, my ancestors left me some land, so I can only stay home and farm.”
Little Red Riding Hood was shocked. She couldn't understand what this farmer was saying.
What did he mean by not having money for school?
A demigod would actually face the predicament of being unable to afford school and having to drop out to farm?
You’ve got to be kidding!
The farmer looked at Little Red Riding Hood, his gaze lingering on her red cloak for a moment. To possess such a powerful artifact at such a young age, she seemed like a young lady from some great family out for a stroll, someone who didn't understand the hardships of the common people.
‘People really are born with different fates,’ he thought secretly.
Some people were born at heights he could never reach in his entire life.
Little Red Riding Hood tilted her head. She completely failed to understand why this farmer was so melancholy.
He was a demigod, after all. Why did he look so miserable?
Recalling what Qin Sansi had said about everyone in the God Realm being a paragon among men, she thought perhaps the people of this world were just too hyper-competitive, to the point that even demigods had to worry about making a living.
...
On the other side.
Under a streetlamp in a corner of a commercial street, Yin Runa found her counterpart.
The other woman was wearing a blue camisole dress, a small blue top hat, and blue high heels.
Yin Runa looked at that face, which was identical to her own. “Oh my god, honey, how did you end up so pathetic? You’re actually busking on the street~”
The counterpart rolled her eyes at her. “I’ve been losing money for so many years anyway. It doesn't matter if it's pathetic or not. Even pathetic people will have their day to be popular again.”
Yin Runa continued to be shocked. “Even if the business at Dashatian is bad, you can't just sell out your love so blatantly! No one with a sense of shame would do this. The consequence of going all out like this is likely ending up with a furry monkey, and you’ll end up with a mouth full of hair.”
“I don't have a choice. There’s no entertainment industry in this world, and no influencers either. I can only be a street acrobat, walking the tightrope for money every day.” The counterpart lowered her head sadly, her small top hat nearly falling off.
Yin Runa’s mouth formed an ‘O’ shape. In other worlds, her counterparts were top-tier stars, the most glamorous roses of empires, or black-and-white idols whom countless people shouted at to get a refund.
But in this world, she had actually fallen to this state!
Without another word, she began to read her counterpart’s memories.
The counterpart was also reading her memories.
...
On Yue Shi’s side.
After his massacre, his mood had improved considerably.
He left the wasteland and found a nearby city.
Standing at the city entrance, he could see that the buildings inside were very tall. The skyscrapers had a futuristic look, with streamlined silhouettes and irregular geometric facets.
Many people were flying in the sky, using no tools at all, just flying with their own bodies.
Some people were looking down at things that resembled mobile phones while they flew.
This scene was incredibly surreal. A high-tech city and people flying with their physical bodies—it was as if two completely unrelated art styles had been forced together.
Yue Shi entered the city and walked along the main street.
As he looked at the various shops on both sides of the street, his heart began to pound with increasing alarm.
“Authority Pawnshop?”
“Painless sterilization surgery, walk-in walk-out, no impact on work or life?”
“Small loans, just mortgage your talent?”
What the hell was all this!!!
...
Blue Star, Dream Disaster Research Center.
Ever since the transmission channels for the Nightmare Sickness had been cut, the number of new cases per day had dropped to an extremely low level.
Zhou Ping sat in front of his computer, staring at the data on the screen. His fingers tapped lightly on the desk as if he were thinking about something.
He suffered from the Nightmare Sickness. Every night when he closed his eyes, he would return to that darkness, experiencing a cycle of constant death and rebirth.
Sleep had become the most painful ordeal.
A colleague beside him patted his shoulder. “The situation is finally under control. Next is the issue of treatment. Take it slow; there will always be a way.”
Zhou Ping gave a hum of acknowledgment but didn't say anything else.
During his lunch break, Zhou Ping accidentally fell asleep.
When he woke up again, he was stunned for a good while.
He actually didn't have a dream?!
He hadn't rested this comfortably in a long time. It was rare to sleep so soundly, so he immediately closed his eyes again and fell into a deep slumber.
Others in the research group also gradually discovered this situation.
The Nightmare Sickness had disappeared. It wasn't cured; the symptoms had vanished on their own.
All the patients stopped having nightmares, just as suddenly and unexpectedly as when they had first contracted the sickness.
The good news was that the patients could finally sleep normally.
The bad news was that most patients had already developed severe psychological trauma, and their mental states were in terrible condition.
The members of the research group were both surprised and overjoyed, yet they also felt a faint sense of worry.
They couldn't understand why the Nightmare Sickness had disappeared, just as they couldn't understand why it had come in the first place.
Without any intervention, the disease was simply gone. Just when everyone thought it was about to destroy everything, it suddenly vanished without a trace.
The ordinary citizens of Blue Star all thought the officials had exerted effort to resolve the matter.
On social media, people posted threads thanking the medical workers for their hard work, with the comment sections filled with “thank you for your hard work.”
The officials neither admitted nor denied it. They only released a short announcement saying that the Nightmare Sickness was currently under effective control and asking everyone to continue maintaining good sleep habits.
In the research group, a researcher noticed while organizing data that although the Nightmare Sickness had disappeared, those former patients could still see the moon.
The researcher wrote this into a report and submitted it.
The report was placed on Zhou Ping’s desk, buried under a stack of more urgent documents.
Rate on N.U.
