Now that he hears two lower-class people discussing the Upper Class People, he feels as if he’s being talked about himself, and he immediately comes out to reprimand them.

The two who were being reprimanded saw it was 1868 and lowered their heads, not daring to speak.

Their thoughts were similar to those of 1868; they also felt he was already halfway an Upper Class Person, so they did not dare to confront him.

Seeing these two lower their heads in fear, 1868 was satisfied. He then straightened up and went to reprimand the supermarket employees who had spoken insolently earlier.

He was the only one present with all his limbs intact, so he was more energetic than the rest.

wanted to rush into the main entrance aggressively but was pushed to the ground by a cashier watching the commotion on the side.

Then the lower-class people inside showed them contemptuous expressions, waving their hands as if shooing flies: "Get lost to where the air is cooler, don’t block the door here." 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

was stunned, lying on the ground, unable to understand why the lower-class people here were different from them, and not at all afraid of the Upper Class People.

"There are no Upper Class People anymore." At this moment, a muffled voice came from beside him.

He turned his head and saw a cloaked figure had somehow appeared next to them.

1868’s first reaction was to see whether he was an Upper Class Person or a lower-class person, but since the person didn’t reveal any skin, 1868 couldn’t figure it out.

Since he couldn’t discern the person’s identity, he didn’t dare speak rudely, only quietly asking, "What?"

As he spoke, he squinted his eyes at the cloaked figure, trying to find a seam in his clothing.

"Still afraid to face reality now," a few soft laughs came from under the cloak, "You’ve felt something amiss inside all along, haven’t you? Not a single Upper Class Person crossed your path along the way, and the ’lower-class people’ you met were nothing like normal lower-class people. Here, there is no distinction between Upper Class People and lower-class people anymore."

Indeed.

The Upper Class People have already sensed something amiss.

But they dared not think in negative terms, desperately numbing themselves within, numbing themselves that they could still return to the Upper Class People district.

The lower-class people, on the other hand, are generally not very smart, usually doing whatever the Upper Class People instruct. When facing Upper Class People, most lower-class people almost entirely lack independent thinking ability.

Of course, there are a few agile minds among them.

After hearing these words, one lower-class person in the crowd raised his head, his gaze blazing as he stared at the mysterious cloaked figure.

He was No. 1095, grouped with Gu Mian in the first phase, the only one from that group to take the stage and rally votes. Compared to other lower-class people, he was much more clever.

Upon arrival, when he came across a wounded Upper Class Person, his initial thought, just like others’, was to send the Upper Class Person back to the Upper Class People district, to win their favor.

But along the way, he began detecting something amiss. It seemed there were no other Upper Class People here, and the "lower-class people" treated the Upper Class People with complete lack of reverence.

To utter a rather unrealistic sentiment, it felt as if the Upper Class People had collapsed, as if they had stepped into a fairy-tale-like new world.

Though he thought this in his heart, he dared not express it; he feared it was all a fantasy, feared that voicing this thought might land him back in the core of the Upper Class People’s territory.

However, this notion had tightly taken root within him, ready to burst forth at any moment.

The appearance of this cloaked figure was a further catalyst.

As the cloaked figure spoke of this world having no more distinction between Upper Class People and lower-class people, his heart raced wildly.

Strangely enough, despite the absence of evidence to prove these words true, he instinctively chose to believe in them. He was filled with hope that they were true; no, they must be true.

"This is a brand new world." No. 1095 heard the cloaked figure say.

"What nonsense!" An Upper Class Person anxiously countered him, and had it not been for the wounds on his body, this Upper Class Person would have dashed forward to take action.

While the person protesting gazed angrily at the cloaked figure, a dull thud sounded behind him.

He turned to look.

It was a lower-class person straightening up his waist; he remembered that person originally carried a wounded Upper Class Person on his back.

But now he had straightened, and the person on his back was gone.

A cry of pain echoed from the ground.

The person who should have been on the back had been tossed onto the ground, possibly colliding with an injury. The tossed Upper Class Person gasped in pain on the floor.

"What are you doing!" The Upper Class People glared at the lower-class person who had thrown the person down.

No. 1095 did not answer them. He excitedly clenched his fists, taking deep breaths, as if making a difficult decision.

Then his gaze firmed up and he shouted: "New World, this is a New World, entirely different from the place we stood before! There are no Upper Class People left in this world!"

After speaking, without waiting for others’ reactions, he turned his head and ran into the distance. As he escaped, he inadvertently stepped on the Upper Class Person lying on the ground, who cried out even more miserably.

No. 1096 was determined not to be a slave to these Upper Class People anymore, thinking to stay as far from them as possible.

Although he mostly accepted the "New World theory," the lower-class people’s fear of the Upper Class People couldn’t vanish instantly. He only dared to flee, not daring to act against the Upper Class People here.

One action ignited a thousand ripples.

The remaining lower-class people stared dumbfounded at No. 1095’s departing figure; some looked bewildered, others scornful.

Two sets of hurried footsteps sounded, drawing attention; two more lower-class people dashed off in escape.

The Upper Class People shouted at them to stop, but hearing the voices behind them made the two run even faster. Their silhouettes quickly vanished from the sight of those left behind.

The other lower-class people also seemed eager to try but were too timid to take the plunge.

scornfully looked toward the departing direction of those few lower-class people: "Foolish, to believe others based solely on a few words. You’ll regret it later."

Having said this, he once again fawned toward the Upper Class People beside him: "Don’t worry, Sirs, I definitely won’t run."

"Don’t worry, Sirs—I also definitely won’t run."

While 1868 ingratiatingly tried to please the Upper Class People, a suddenly sarcastic voice sounded nearby, with its tone stretched, making it particularly obnoxious to the Upper Class People.

Who is it?

The people turned toward the source of the voice, immediately spotting a familiar silhouette.

Upon recognizing the approaching figure, everyone’s scalp tingled.

Wasn’t this the "No.9" who sliced them down like chopping vegetables on the stage?

They found themselves in this ghostly place entirely thanks to this person!

However, the Upper Class People did not dare to confront Gu Mian; instead, they retreated in unison, turning and escaping.

After all, Gu Mian could pull out that shiny weapon at any moment.

The one tossed onto the ground also stopped clutching his leg and yelling in pain, swiftly shutting his mouth and fled, slipping and scrambling away for fear of being caught for even a second’s delay.

Within a minute, the crowd gathered here dispersed completely.

At the deserted entrance of the supermarket, only Gu Mian and Xie Bi’an remained.