Chapter 1084 Small troubles

Boluogo stood on the desolate gray land. As far as he could see, he saw an endless desert. There was no wind, no water, no breath of life, only endless gray and dead silence. It seemed that even time was in this desert.

The land came to a standstill, and an inexplicable depression and loneliness descended.

Bologg lowered his head and touched his chest, and a real touch came back from his palm. It was obvious that Bologg at this time was not an illusory consciousness like Freya, but a real entity.

But the strange thing is that his consciousness should have returned to nothingness. Where did this entity come from? And, although he has a physical body, Bologo still cannot use the ether and secret energy, as if he is in this land.

, he turned back into a real mortal.

"call……"

Boluogo sighed longly. Speaking of which, he already had a deep enough understanding of the etheric world, but he knew very little about this void.

In the dark, Boluogo suspected that his immortality was inextricably related to this place, but all of it was still sinking under the water, and his true appearance was not revealed.

it does not matter.

Boluogo knew that he was not far from the truth. As the dispute between the devils intensified, he was an extremely useful chess piece, and Leviathan would definitely compromise on him.

Wandering in this desolate world, Bologo searched for traces of Leviathan.

This is the moon hanging high above the earth, and it is also the land of Leviathan in the material world. In the dispute between him and Mammon, if Leviathan loses, Mammon will definitely notice this place and extend its tentacles.

Similarly, if Mammon loses, Leviathan will definitely return to his lair to rest and prepare.

Boluogo doesn't think there can be a winner between the two, at least not now.

Mammon and Leviathan are the same kind of devils. They are evil and cunning, and their hearts are full of conspiracies and tricks. This may be the original sin they carry, which leads to their character.

In comparison, Boluogo felt that arrogance and rage seemed more innocent... They did not like twists and turns of conspiracies, and only believed in absolute power.

"Speaking of it, this place can be considered part of the material world."

Boluogo raised his head and looked at the blue and clear planet behind the layers of suspended boulders. Even though it was so far away, Boluogo could still clearly see the dazzling light spot towering on the top of the snow-capped mountains.

Big crack.

According to Boluogo's "previous life" memory, the material world covers more than just the planet in front of him. It means the entire dimension of reality. And the destruction of the material world that Boluogo often mentions is actually more inclined to this planet.

The destruction of the planet.

What will it look like then?

The Great Rift continues to expand and swallow up, until the entire planet is subsumed by the extraordinary power, and then triggers the final collapse.

Bologo could more or less imagine a scene where the earth collapsed and cracks burning with lava were formed, and the continental plates sank into the sea one by one, causing waves and whirlpools.

A loud rumbling sound came from the depths of the ocean. It was the sound of plates colliding and squeezing, like a prelude to the end of the world.

Under the extremely noisy extraordinary power, the entire planet is collapsing inwards, collapsing layer by layer, and finally turns into a dazzling ether spot, standing quietly in this dark and boundless universe, reducing everything in humankind to ashes.

It's like they never existed.

“This is a good viewing platform.”

Boluogo continued to think about it. At the end of the day, Leviathan would probably be sitting in the void, watching the destruction of the planet. Perhaps the surging disaster would also spread to the void.

Turn this land into powder as well.

Further on...

Boluogo couldn't imagine what would happen next.

After losing consciousness for a moment, Boluogo stopped beside a crater. While maintaining his balance, he walked along the slope towards the shadow at the bottom of the crater.

Pebbles fell from Boluogo's feet, and the gradually rising smoke followed behind him. In this dead world, Boluogo's presence was so abrupt, and every move he made made disturbing noises.

Bologo guessed that Leviathan might not be at home, otherwise he would have noticed his movements long ago, or it might be that he was resting and was too lazy to pay attention to him.

After a period of time, Boluogo came to the edge of the pit bottom. The boundary line between shadow and light was extremely clear. Beyond the boundary, there was something vaguely inside.

Boluogo knew what was inside. Even he was frightened when he saw those things last time. But this time, Boluogo was mentally prepared and stepped into the shadows.

What was blurry became clear.

Countless humanoid sculptures are piled up scatteredly on the ground, piled up layer by layer, as high as a hill. If you look carefully, you can see that the movements of the sculptures are different, but their appearances are surprisingly the same.

They are all exactly the same as Boluogo.

The body of the sculpture is as pale as plaster, exuding a dead and cold atmosphere. The surface of the body is covered with cracks, like traces of erosion by time, or scars left by enduring unspeakable pain.

Some sculptures have broken limbs, the fractures are uneven, screaming silently in pain, and some sculptures have been broken into scattered pieces, scattered on the ground, like abandoned waste.

Boluogo guessed that there were many sculptures that had been completely weathered, completely annihilated into powder, and turned into gray dust on the ground, trampled under his feet.

Picking up a broken head, Boluogo picked it up and looked at it carefully. It was his own face, a face full of pain, as if he had fixed a certain moment of his death here.

Boluogo threw the head away casually, and it fell to the ground, smashed into pieces.

After trampling on the sculptures piece by piece, Boluogo carefully climbed up the mountain of corpses. After climbing over one hill, there was another hill.

Endless sculptures gradually appeared, and they were arranged densely. Boluogo saw countless versions of himself, and also saw those gray faces showing various strong emotions.

Boluogo laughed at himself, "The carving is really good."

Anger, hatred, hatred...

These strong emotions are reflected in every sculpture. They are obviously made of gray stone, but the moment they look at each other, they seem to come alive. Some hold their weapons high, as powerful as breaking bamboo, and some lower their heads and groan, as if they are accumulating strength.

Others opened their arms, as if embracing some unspeakable pain.

It's like fighting, fighting, or fighting something.

Boluogo suddenly remembered the mythical snake demon that could petrify others. What he saw now was like an army encountering the mythical monster. The moment they looked at each other, they were frozen in place, their faces frozen.

His expressions and movements were forever frozen in the moment of death.

The moment of Borgo's death.

Ruoyouruowu's sighs echoed in the darkness. Boluogo lowered his head and stroked his angry face. He tried to close his angry eyes and rubbed his fingertips, but he left a scratch that was neither deep nor shallow.

marks and cut open the pupils of the eyes.

Soon, Boluogo gave up climbing, turned back to the ground, and climbed back along the slope to the desolate land. He thought that this should be only a small part of the corpse. Every crater shrouded in shadow was filled with corpses.

A cemetery used for burials.

Boluogo stood in the light, looked at the shadows below, and murmured to himself, "Can it be said that every time I die, I will leave such a... remains in the void?"

"But……"

Boluogo doubted himself. His gift was obviously a time axis, which could make his body cycle back and forth within a time interval...

No...that's not the case.

As if he had understood, Bologo raised his hand and looked at his palm with suspicion. Under the direct light, a white halo appeared on his skin.

"Is this the truth about my gift? The so-called axis of time tracing is just a rational explanation based on the only information."

For a long time, Bologo has believed that his resurrection from the dead was just like what was recorded in the official records of the Bureau of Order, but he had almost forgotten that the conclusions given by the Bureau of Order were only sorted out through continuous testing.

Just a vague explanation.

The Bureau of Order understood its gift, but it only understood part of it, not the whole picture. It had no doubts about it and had almost forgotten the mystery.

Boluogo laughed twice to himself. Before he realized this essential problem, he might have been excited for a while, or felt confused and doubtful about everything, but now, he only felt calm in his heart.

He remembered Amu's words.

"Sometimes, I will be worried. When I get upset, I can't sleep all night long. I can only find ways to get busy and make myself forget these things that are there and not there."

Aimu had a distressed look on his face and his words were genuine, and he seemed to be really wrapped in countless sorrows.

Borlog asked, "What are you worried about?"

"Some... some things that seem insignificant and even a little pointless," Aimu smiled sheepishly, "It's like trying to get into trouble. It's obviously not something that is too important, but it can make us annoyed for a while."

She added, "But it has passed, and the way it passed was very special."

"Tell me about it?"

Aimu thought about it for a while and said softly, "One night, I was too tired to sleep, so I went out for a walk. The Oath City Opos was still brightly lit late at night, and many people could be seen on the streets. The workers who got off work late at night were actually...

Drunks on the streets, rag pickers rummaging through trash cans, and couples crying on the street corners.”

She laughed as she said, "I was sitting on a bench and just watching all this. I saw pedestrians one after another, trying to guess their identities, what they were going to do, what they were thinking... and what they were worried about.

"

Aimu looked at himself and blinked.

"I'm thinking about the worker's troubles. He works until late at night before he can get off work, and his salary may not allow him to live a better life. I'm thinking about the drunkard's troubles. He may have suffered a great setback.

When you are frustrated in life, you use this method to escape stress.

I'm thinking about the troubles of scavengers, the troubles of lovers... one trouble after another, endless troubles."

Aimu's voice suddenly paused, as if he was listening to the reverberation of the words.

"For a moment, I suddenly realized that my troubles were so insignificant compared to the troubles of these people. It was like I was complaining for nothing, or even showing off the luxury of my life."

Boluogo listened calmly and nodded along with the words.
To be continued...