Chapter 449: Shadows Over Happy Town

The once sunlit small town suddenly turned gloomy.

A chilling aura clung to these people as they huddled in every corner of town.

They had lost everything, trapped in a delusional dream.

He planned to dismantle the museum, but did he really have to destroy these unfortunate souls along with it?

……

Looking up at the far end of the street, the old man heading home sat alone under a streetlight, silently gazing at the sky.

He was completely alone.

In his hand was no meat for stewing—only a handmade cigarette, burned down to its last end.

Because Lu Xin had entered this museum using the old man’s characteristic traits, he knew about the old man’s past.

Thirty years ago, he lived without worries; after the Red Moon brought drastic change, he had a devoted wife and a pair of lovely, sensible children.

Even though he had been a troublemaker in his youth, he reformed later, worked hard, earned accolades in the battle against madmen, and contributed when civilization was rebuilt.

Yet his life turned tragically cursed.

His son died in a car accident, and his daughter lost her hearing due to a high fever. He and his wife toiled to raise his daughter, only to attract a kind but limping son-in-law. In the end, she died during a difficult childbirth on the operating table, leaving behind a grandson.

The diligent, capable son-in-law, however, was crushed into flesh paste by an engineering accident involving two concrete slabs.

Amid a series of disasters, his wife passed away, leaving him to raise his grandson, hoping he would grow up.

But when the grandson was six, he too died from what began as a minor cold.

After a lifetime of hardship, looking back, he found himself alone in the world with nothing but an old ox, teetering on the edge of death.

How does one face such relentless suffering?

Or rather, what else can be done when all one can do is watch such misery unfold?

……

“Foolish souls wander without direction. Stubborn spirits remain forever broken.”

“Trapped in cages, eyes bloodshot and tongues raw. Sleeping among the dead, forever accompanied by the starry sky.”

“……”

While Lu Xin pondered this question, a vague song began to echo through the town.

The song was hollow and eerie, with a quivering tone and lacking the vitality of the living—it resembled the lament of ghosts drifting through a graveyard.

At first, it was a single, ethereal note, but gradually the sound multiplied, merging into a flowing stream.

A small creek became a great river, and the river flowed into the sea.

Suddenly, all the forsaken souls of the town lifted their heads in bewilderment.

They moved their lips in unison, following the song, slowly marching like the living dead from every direction.

Swaying and staggering, they knelt on the town’s slate stone ground.

Lu Xin saw thousands upon thousands of people. The town had at least tens of thousands, all gathering together.

Their eyes were vacant and expressions numb as they moved, swaying slowly to the hypnotic song.

Their bodies moved as if guided by an unseen clock—first tilting their heads left in three slow circles, then right in two, straightening their backs, and finally bowing heavily until a resounding thud left a bruise on their foreheads before they slowly stood up again.

They repeated this mechanical ritual, bowing ahead as if worshipping their god.

Lu Xin felt the power of the town intensify.

The earlier illusion appeared to be self-repairing, gradually becoming complete.

The slate road he had disturbed was slowly mending itself, and the air around him was building in pressure.

An invisible mental force began to affect his mind.

The objects and people before him gradually blurred and lost focus.

He saw that endless figures merging into a single mass.

They swayed, bowing in unison, their movements becoming more synchronized and exaggerated.

Even the song grew louder and more forceful.

In the end, it thundered like successive waves rolling forward relentlessly.

It was as if his mind was being hit by a tremendous force, squeezed by the overwhelming sound.

These people were trying to reclaim their lost dreams.

Suddenly, Lu Xin understood.

The mental fluctuations emanating from these people mirrored that of the Cardinal.

This small town wasn’t the core of the Disaster Museum—the souls representing calamity were.

Everyone who reached the third stage could exponentially increase their mental power.

But the real challenge was maintaining clarity and reason amid such overwhelming power.

The Calamity Archbishop used the Disaster Museum to trap these unfortunate souls in bottles, ensuring an endless supply of calamity power to exploit.

No wonder he could parasitize the immense mental power of the Queen of Happy Town—he had these collections as his backing.

……

A slight warmth tingled at the tip of his nose as blood began to seep out.

Lu Xin’s eyes turned cold, and his hand twitched, contorting into a bizarre shape.

His eyes were blood-red, ready to surge forward and tear the crowd apart.

But was that truly the answer?

With a soft “thud,”

his heart seemed to beat heavily, and Lu Xin’s vision sharpened once more.

Looking ahead, he saw no rabid mob or monsters—only a group of pitiable souls.

Lu Xin slowly exhaled, his expression gradually settling into calm.

……

“I have felt your pain, and so I understand you.”

After a long, silent contemplation, Lu Xin finally looked up, meeting their eyes earnestly.

Although no words were necessary at that moment, Lu Xin continued, “Your pain and misfortune have been taken and turned into weapons to hurt others. Someone lures you with false illusions, continuously feeding your power. Does that truly help, or does it push you deeper into despair?”

“You’ve been deceived. You thought this place could erase your pain, but it only engraves it even deeper.”

Taking a deep breath, Lu Xin lowered his voice: “Your suffering has already occurred. I cannot undo it.”

“But in this fake world, at least I can offer you one genuine thing.”

“……”

After speaking earnestly, he bowed slightly to the group while holding a doll, saying,

“My sympathy.”

He continued softly with a gentle voice:

“I may not be able to help much, but I truly know how hard life has been for you.”

……

His voice was low, yet in this realm of entwined spirits, it reached every ear.

In a hidden corner, an old man watching the confrontation was momentarily stunned.

He slowly lifted his face, partially hidden by his hat’s brim, his expression oddly conflicted.

……

Sympathy is one of the cheapest emotions in the world.

Yet as Lu Xin spoke earnestly, the town underwent a subtle shift.

The song persisted, still sounding as feverish and mad as ever.

Everyone continued their synchronized posture, bowing in that strange manner to some unknown god.

But among the fervent crowd, one woman who had been swept up in the ranks felt Lu Xin’s influence. Her numb expression slowly changed; though she joined the chanting and bowing like the rest, tears began streaming down her face.

Gradually, her crying grew louder, disrupting her chanting and her bowing became all disordered.

Lu Xin had seen this woman in one of his bottles.

She had once sold the small restaurant she’d built with her heart to save her husband, using all her savings, only for him to still pass away. After that, she became silent and numb, as if nothing could move her.

For many years, she hadn’t spoken earnestly or shown any emotion.

But now, she suddenly broke down, her shoulders trembling as her cries escalated into wailing.

Her sorrow was so profound it seemed to release every bit of her pent-up grief and pain.

And she was only the first; many more in this town were beginning to feel the effect.

Their once synchronized movements shattered like a dam eroded by an ant colony, their numbness fractured by tiny cracks until the second, third, and fourth followed with tears.

More and more cries seemed to gain a power of their own, spreading relentlessly.

The sound of weeping emerged in this once idyllic town, shaking the entire world.

……

Too many have underestimated the power of sympathy.

Perhaps sympathy is the most useless emotion of all in this world.

Yet for those numbed by calamity and hardened like stone, even a bit of compassion can break through their shell, stirring in them a painful sensitivity and the ability to cry.

Being able to cry is, in itself, a blessing.

So, cry as much as you need.

Lu Xin silently watched these weeping souls and sincerely wished in his heart that they might attain genuine rebirth.

……

“Impossible, impossible…”

“How dare you do this?”

“……”

As the bottle filled with cries, the Calamity Archbishop within his cocoon of light revealed an expression of shock and even hatred.

He was meant to channel all his strength into completing the parasitic ritual, but he could no longer care, for he felt the changes within the Disaster Museum. His power was no longer pure. Quickly weighing his options, he made a decisive decision.

Suddenly, a torrent of nerves and blood vessels detached from the Queen’s body.

Carrying scarlet blood, they drifted into mid-air, then swiftly sped away from the light, heading in one direction.

Within the ruins of Happy Town lay a black box.

Inside the box was an ancient museum model.

The nerves and blood vessels that had flown out converged at the model and pierced straight into it.