Chapter 442 - 442 The Door Of Life and Death
442 The Door Of Life and Death
Selma Payne’s POV:
Like a hungry child, New Flow pounced on the bubble and started devouring it. I felt cold all over, and I couldn’t tell if the cold came from the evil power with the smell of the sea or from my heart.
The bubble became visibly thinner quickly, and the people cheered as they scrambled to get to the city gate.
The 40-meter wide city wall was not narrow, but it was like an ant hole on the river bank in front of tens of thousands of people. Water could not flow out, but the entire river bank would collapse sooner or later.
People were squeezing like sardines in a can, and children were constantly crying. Someone’s child fell, but the people behind them stepped on it as if they didn’t see it. Anxious parents tried to pull their child up, but it only brought more pain to the child. As a result, a few parties started quarreling, and this farce attracted more attention, making the place even more crowded and thus giving birth to more similar tragedies.
A mother cried and emphasized that she had a child, but no one cared. An old man was either hiding under the wall or standing in the crowd with his eyes closed as if he didn’t want his dying body to block the way of life for the young people.
Whose family had been torn apart? It was a young couple. They called out to each other in grief, but no one could see each other’s lovely faces in the vast sea of people. Suddenly, the wife began to cry. Perhaps it was because she had some telepathic connection with her husband, and her husband’s cries had just been cut off by an abrupt wail.
People’s lives under the city wall were like grass, but I was all alone on the city wall.
I tried my best to calm myself down and not be curious about what was happening below the city walls. However, my superior hearing has now become a sharp blade that cuts my soul. Those who yearned to escape didn’t care about tragedies, those who were enveloped in tragedies couldn’t even take care of themselves, and those who were in despair skimmed through all tragedies as if they were looking at a broken flyer.
Only I couldn’t escape. I couldn’t close my eyes and listen.
I created the door of life in my hands, but I felt like I was already in hell.
The moment the bubble burst completely, the city gate opened.
It was so tiny that not even a finger could reach out through it. That was what happened the moment the door was opened. However, I saw countless hands reach out from the crack, greedily grabbing at the empty air as if they had just survived a disaster.
Was this a way out? This was a way out!
How I wished that after I opened the door, it would be the cliché happy ending, that everyone was alive, and that no one was injured or killed in today’s disaster. Everything was just like a dream. When the children in their parents’ arms became old people, they could still joke with their grandchildren about what sensational scenes they had experienced in their youth.
How I wish this were true.
It was a pity that the Goddess of Hope had closed her eyes.
Along with the finger, the turbulent seawater escaped the door. The restless sea water finally found a gap to vent and immediately poured out, bringing a turbulent flow of water with it.
The people walking in front didn’t even have time to look at the sun before the water washed over them. How many people could still get up after falling? The seawater that gushed into their mouths and noses suffocated them, so they struggled, inadvertently causing more people to fall. The seawater was not the most terrible thing. What was more terrible was the ‘harm’ caused by his kind.
No one had the time to look at what was under their feet, and no one could help the fallen. They couldn’t do that even if they wanted to because they were no longer themselves. They couldn’t control themselves.
Everyone was swept away by the water, crowd, fear, and hope. Together, they formed a huge, irresistible force. If one was in it, one could only follow this power. Whoever tried to resist would become the stepping stone for others.
I’d seen countless bloody scenes. Be it the smoke from the battlefield or the bloody limbs, I could keep a straight face. However, facing a group of harmless ordinary people like them, I felt a sense of powerlessness and fear that I hadn’t felt in a long time. I would die if I looked at it for one more second, so I closed my eyes.
After losing my sight, my hearing became even more acute. It was hard to tell whether it was torture to watch the disaster happen or to hear the details of the disaster.
There were even more children crying, followed by desperate wails and angry curses from adults. It was as if certain conditions had to be met to pass through this door, or they would have to stay here forever. Before the fleeing people could cheer, they turned around and saw their loved ones, lovers, or friends mercilessly swallowed by the dark gate.
As for the mayors, nobles, and commoners? Now, there was no difference at all. In the face of life and death, everyone was equally miserable. It didn’t matter if you were sitting in the Council Chamber a few hours ago or cooking a pot of unpalatable home-cooked soup on the stove; now, they had to put on the ugliest expression and struggle in the crowd with the most twisted movements.
For a moment, I wished I were deaf.
Selma Payne’s POV:
Like a hungry child, New Flow pounced on the bubble and started devouring it. I felt cold all over, and I couldn’t tell if the cold came from the evil power with the smell of the sea or from my heart.
The bubble became visibly thinner quickly, and the people cheered as they scrambled to get to the city gate.
The 40-meter wide city wall was not narrow, but it was like an ant hole on the river bank in front of tens of thousands of people. Water could not flow out, but the entire river bank would collapse sooner or later.
People were squeezing like sardines in a can, and children were constantly crying. Someone’s child fell, but the people behind them stepped on it as if they didn’t see it. Anxious parents tried to pull their child up, but it only brought more pain to the child. As a result, a few parties started quarreling, and this farce attracted more attention, making the place even more crowded and thus giving birth to more similar tragedies.
A mother cried and emphasized that she had a child, but no one cared. An old man was either hiding under the wall or standing in the crowd with his eyes closed as if he didn’t want his dying body to block the way of life for the young people.
Whose family had been torn apart? It was a young couple. They called out to each other in grief, but no one could see each other’s lovely faces in the vast sea of people. Suddenly, the wife began to cry. Perhaps it was because she had some telepathic connection with her husband, and her husband’s cries had just been cut off by an abrupt wail.
People’s lives under the city wall were like grass, but I was all alone on the city wall.
I tried my best to calm myself down and not be curious about what was happening below the city walls. However, my superior hearing has now become a sharp blade that cuts my soul. Those who yearned to escape didn’t care about tragedies, those who were enveloped in tragedies couldn’t even take care of themselves, and those who were in despair skimmed through all tragedies as if they were looking at a broken flyer.
Only I couldn’t escape. I couldn’t close my eyes and listen.
I created the door of life in my hands, but I felt like I was already in hell.
The moment the bubble burst completely, the city gate opened.
It was so tiny that not even a finger could reach out through it. That was what happened the moment the door was opened. However, I saw countless hands reach out from the crack, greedily grabbing at the empty air as if they had just survived a disaster.
Was this a way out? This was a way out!
How I wished that after I opened the door, it would be the cliché happy ending, that everyone was alive, and that no one was injured or killed in today’s disaster. Everything was just like a dream. When the children in their parents’ arms became old people, they could still joke with their grandchildren about what sensational scenes they had experienced in their youth.
How I wish this were true.
It was a pity that the Goddess of Hope had closed her eyes.
Along with the finger, the turbulent seawater escaped the door. The restless sea water finally found a gap to vent and immediately poured out, bringing a turbulent flow of water with it.
The people walking in front didn’t even have time to look at the sun before the water washed over them. How many people could still get up after falling? The seawater that gushed into their mouths and noses suffocated them, so they struggled, inadvertently causing more people to fall. The seawater was not the most terrible thing. What was more terrible was the ‘harm’ caused by his kind.
No one had the time to look at what was under their feet, and no one could help the fallen. They couldn’t do that even if they wanted to because they were no longer themselves. They couldn’t control themselves.
Everyone was swept away by the water, crowd, fear, and hope. Together, they formed a huge, irresistible force. If one was in it, one could only follow this power. Whoever tried to resist would become the stepping stone for others.
I’d seen countless bloody scenes. Be it the smoke from the battlefield or the bloody limbs, I could keep a straight face. However, facing a group of harmless ordinary people like them, I felt a sense of powerlessness and fear that I hadn’t felt in a long time. I would die if I looked at it for one more second, so I closed my eyes.
After losing my sight, my hearing became even more acute. It was hard to tell whether it was torture to watch the disaster happen or to hear the details of the disaster.
There were even more children crying, followed by desperate wails and angry curses from adults. It was as if certain conditions had to be met to pass through this door, or they would have to stay here forever. Before the fleeing people could cheer, they turned around and saw their loved ones, lovers, or friends mercilessly swallowed by the dark gate.
As for the mayors, nobles, and commoners? Now, there was no difference at all. In the face of life and death, everyone was equally miserable. It didn’t matter if you were sitting in the Council Chamber a few hours ago or cooking a pot of unpalatable home-cooked soup on the stove; now, they had to put on the ugliest expression and struggle in the crowd with the most twisted movements.
For a moment, I wished I were deaf.
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