A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

Bray thought there wouldn't be many exceptions, because if there were too many, they wouldn't be considered exceptions anymore.

He reached out and touched the moldy wooden barrel.

The places he touched instantly crumbled as easily as sand frozen in water.

After breaking the barrel, Bray instinctively looked up.

Surely no one here will grab me and demand compensation, right?

Because this place doesn't look like anyone lives here at all.

But soon, a low humming sound came from not far away.

Without thinking too much, Bray followed the sound, wanting to know what in this place could be making such a low humming sound, regardless of whether it was dangerous or not.

But before he even reached his destination, he encountered something strange.

A being existing in a state between spirit and body walked unsteadily through this abandoned village.

Bray couldn't definitively say whether the other party was an undead or a human, so he could only describe it as "existing".

The other person's face was so dry that it looked like someone who was severely dehydrated, and their skin wasn't a normal color; it was a bit bluish or purplish.

“I’ll be able to save enough money soon…” Bray heard this from the other person.

The guy's eyes were grayish-white, and he seemed completely unaware that Bray was right in front of him.

He walked straight toward Bray and bumped into him.

However, after that, they continued walking as if nothing had happened.

"Once I've earned enough money, I can redeem you all." The almost whispered words echoed in Bray's ears.

"Hey." Bray turned around, wanting to call out to this strange guy.

He had intended to pat the other person on the shoulder to signal that they shouldn't ignore him.

"Whoosh—" But it would have been better if he hadn't slapped him; the slap knocked the other person's shoulder off.

That guy's body was like a piece of rotten wood, it would crumble at the slightest touch.

And that was indeed the case; Bray didn't even use much force with that slap, yet his shoulder and entire arm fell apart.

"..." Bray slapped the other person's hand off his shoulder, and for a moment he didn't know where to put it. He had accidentally knocked off the other person's shoulder and arm together, and he felt a little ashamed.

However, this wasn't a complete failure; he successfully elicited a response from the other party.

The gaunt figure slowly turned its head, looking at Bray with bewildered gray eyes.

However, it was less about looking at Bray and more about simply looking at the spot where Bray was standing.

“I’ll soon be able to earn enough money, and you won’t have to suffer so much…” The guy quickly turned around, continued walking forward, and muttered to himself.

"Then...who are you?" After taking a few steps, the once firm tone became somewhat confused.

This question wasn't directed at Bray, nor at anyone around him; he was asking himself.

But soon, he seemed to have forgotten the significance of the question and walked away without saying a word.

"I have enough money... I have enough... and then what..." Amidst this confused voice, the figure grew smaller and smaller in Bray's sight, finally walking onto the stone bridge.

Then, the abandoned village suddenly disappeared and became another place.

A cement brick alleyway that seems to have been left unused for a century.

Just like before, Bray saw something, whether alive or dead, walking towards him with drunken gait.

"I...I can still drink...hahahahaha..." This time, it wasn't a low murmur, but a hearty laugh.

"Drink up, all of you drink up..."

Bray fell silent, looking at his empty palms and then at the drunkard.

“You don’t need to worry about them,” an old man carrying a long spear said to Bray, leaning against a rock that seemed out of place in the alleyway.

Bray's right eye scanned the old man.

"Don't look anymore. I'm different from them. My memories haven't completely disappeared," the old man said casually.

"However... it should be soon."

"Where is this place? I came from the other side of the stone bridge." Bray was filled with emotion, finally finding someone he could talk to properly.

It's really not easy to find someone to talk to in this underworld.

"Where is it? I don't know either. As for that stone bridge, I've never crossed it."

"But my instincts tell me not to cross this stone bridge lightly." The old man's voice carried a strong sense of history and had a special persuasive power.

"As for myself, and the guy you just saw, I can explain it to you."

"Me and those guys are all dead. Logically speaking, this place is probably what is called hell or the underworld."

"You've just arrived in this place, and you may not yet have accepted the fact that you're dead."

"Only the dead will appear here."

"It took me a long time to figure this out," the old man said quietly.

"I... um." Bray wanted to say that he wasn't dead yet, but he kept quiet.

As a newbie in the Underworld, I should just listen to others' explanations.

Although I don't know what's going on on the other side of the stone bridge, judging from the old man's words and actions, he must be a seasoned veteran.

"But this is the first time I've seen an old man come from the other side of the bridge."

"You're an oddball like me, aren't you?" the older man said with a self-deprecating laugh.

"Since you have nothing to do anyway, just chat with me."

"Ask whatever you want, say whatever you want, although you'll probably forget it all soon," the old man said. This old man was a dead man; everything Bray had just seen was dead.

However, the dead on this side of the stone bridge were different from those Bray had seen at first; they had all died not long ago.

Of course, this old man with the long spear is an exception.

The old man had no idea how long he had been dead, and he couldn't even if he wanted to, because there was no day or night here.

He wouldn't be so bored as to calculate and record time second by second, so he currently doesn't know how long he's been dead.

But anyway, it took him much longer than other dead souls; at least he personally witnessed many newly deceased souls walk onto that stone bridge.

Even after death, the deceased retain some memories, the most stubborn of which are their obsessions and hobbies from their lifetime.

Obsession is understandable, but hobbies are also stubborn memories that kept the old man happy for a long time.

After all, many people's hobbies can be called quirks.

Unfortunately, memories don't last long in this place that's hard to tell whether it's hell or the underworld.

The memories of the dead fade away, and eventually, both their minds and hearts become empty.

When this stage is reached, these spirits will cross the bridge on their own.

The more complex principles were beyond the understanding of this old man holding the spear.

"Do you still remember things clearly?" Bray couldn't help but ask.

"This is a really difficult question to answer. It's really hard for someone with amnesia to realize they have amnesia when prompted by someone."

"I suppose those who died felt pretty good about themselves before they forgot everything."

"Perhaps I've forgotten many things without even realizing it," the old man said with a stiff smile.

Like other people who have fallen to the underworld, he was extremely thin and lifeless, as if a gust of wind could blow him away.

"The only thing I'm sure of is that I've forgotten my name and that I was shot through the heart and died."

After saying that, the old man lifted his tattered clothes, revealing a large empty space in his chest.

"By the way, the scenery you saw earlier was all fake; it was the scene that left the deepest impression on those who died."

"Hmm...it can't be called fake, after all, it wasn't an illusion," the old man muttered to himself.

When he first arrived at this place, it was as if he had woken up to find himself in a completely unfamiliar place.

Later, I realized that "it was all an illusion."

Everything is inanimate; even I, the one who can move, am just an old thing that has been dead for a long time.

He really didn't know what else he could do besides wait for his memory to fade.

Sometimes he would think, "I might as well just cross the bridge and avoid all this suffering here."

But instinct tells me I absolutely cannot cross the bridge, or something irreversible will happen.

Later, he realized that he was an outsider in this wretched place, and a sense of loneliness arose spontaneously.

I never expected to see another oddball after so long. Maybe my life isn't so bad after all.

"Young man, what's it like on the other side of the bridge?"

“A group of dead people, walking in a certain direction, not knowing when they will reach the end.” After thinking for a moment, Bray told the old man his opinion.

"That's really boring, but for an empty shell, there's no such thing as boredom or not."

"I still don't want it to be like that. If I'm going to die, why can't I just disappear completely with a 'pop'?"

"I wonder what would happen if I died here a second time," the old man sighed.

"Or rather, this is a punishment for killing too many people, deliberately tormenting this proud person."

"You killed someone?" Bray asked.

"Yes, I killed so many people, but I've forgotten who I used to be."

"But no matter what, the fact remains that he killed someone."

Perhaps they are soldiers, perhaps assassins, or perhaps something else entirely; in any case, it's a profession that involves bloodshed.

Then, the two fell silent for a while.

After a long while, Bray slowly began to continue the conversation.

"You've been here so long, have you seen a tall stone platform?" Bree asked, remembering Kong Meng's recent remark about a high point in the Underworld.

He wasn't trying to avoid solidifying his reputation as a chat genius.

"A high platform? Yes, there is." The old man seemed confused for a moment, then nodded.

"Just walk in this direction and you'll see it." The old man pointed in a certain direction.

"You want to climb up?"

"Yes, it's easier to find things from a high vantage point."

“I’ve climbed up there before, but unfortunately the dead people’s eyesight seemed to be failing, so I didn’t see anything,” the old man sighed.

His eyes, like those of the other deceased, were grayish-white.

It's not that they couldn't even see the mine in front of them; the visibility was probably definitely not high.

Otherwise, he wouldn't have waited until Bray got so close before speaking.

“That place is really high up, and the road is difficult to walk on,” the old man added.

"By the way, when you're climbing the tower, you should go up the ladder on the left."

“On the right side, there will be a lot of skeletons. With all the things on your body, you basically won’t be able to climb over there,” he said, pointing to Bray’s two swords.

"Thanks..."

Are you leaving?

"Yeah, I'm in a hurry."

“You’re really curious about this place. I’ve never seen any other dead guy as enthusiastic as you.”

"Everyone is so negative, just aimlessly waiting for their memories to completely disappear." The old man shook his head helplessly.

Even now, the old man still believes that Bray is a dead man, just like him.

“…” Bray stared at the old man, lost in thought for a long time.

“Actually, I didn’t die. I accidentally came in from outside,” he said.

"Haha..." The old man suddenly laughed.