As long as you have the courage, fierce ghosts go on maternity leave.

What appeared before Alexander was a grand city. Although it didn’t match the grandeur of the ghost cities in Horror World, its size was roughly comparable to Washington, D.C. There were no skyscrapers, but the orderly houses, spacious streets, and the bustling pedestrians all attested to its liveliness and prosperity.

The entire city was enveloped in a white mist. Not far behind Alexander was an impenetrable wall of mist, as if a colossal lid was sealing the earth. Ahead of the mist lay the enormous white wall.

People walking on those streets were mostly endowed with remarkable abilities; the fluctuations of Ghost Energy on them were all at least of the soldier level, and even Ghost Kings were not uncommon.

The number couldn’t be estimated but it certainly exceeded one hundred thousand, and that was just Alexander’s lowest rough estimate; the actual figure would be much higher.

However, these survivors’ strengths weren’t what surprised Alexander. What truly astonished him was the environment. The faint Ghost Energy, a certain chilly air, and the eternally gloomy sky made Alexander feel for a moment as if he had returned to Horror World, yet something was slightly different.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was different; it just felt like this place was not the real Horror World. Or rather, it was a different Horror World altogether.

This surreal sensation shocked Alexander. Someone had used that black rune-inscribed brick to create another, smaller Horror World!

"Mr. Alexander, stop zoning out! Come with me. I owe my current strength to you. As a thank you, let me treat you to a drink at the bar. We can discuss any questions you might have while drinking," Quillhart approached and said.

"Alright, thank you," Alexander nodded. He indeed had many questions, and this gateway to the outside world was clearly not the place for a conversation.

A bar was obviously not a place for Moonshade, a minor girl, even in a post-apocalyptic world where everyone had become survivors. Therefore, it was just Quillhart who led Alexander toward a bar in the city.

"The invasion of the Mist was too sudden. Everyone knew that Horror World would eventually come, even destroying reality, but nobody expected it would happen so swiftly and brutally."

While walking towards the bar, Quillhart chatted with Alexander. He naturally understood what those who had just come out of the Mist Instance would want to know and began:

"Nine days ago, black beetles suddenly surged all over the world. They gnawed frantically at everything—trees, fallen leaves, clothing, animals, shoes, socks, and even... living humans!" As he said this, Quillhart seemed to relive that horrifying scenario, his eyes filled with dread.

"Everyone was running for their lives, but it was pointless. Those black beetles were relentless. Even thick cement walls, once discovered, would be chewed through by swarms of beetles, riddled with holes."

Nine days ago...

A thought crossed Alexander’s mind. He had spent considerable time in the Mist Instance, on the airship, and in the First Ghost Realm.

After returning to Dark Hell, he had first gone to the city lord’s mansion to collect the Dark Hell Emperor’s seal and had been worrying for a few days about the Ghost Pill. All told, nine days ago should have been his last day in the Mist Instance, around the time when White Clothes appeared.

"What was the exact time?" Alexander hastily asked.

"Five forty in the afternoon!" Quillhart responded without hesitation, evidently, the time was deeply etched in his memory.

Sure enough, Alexander was profoundly shaken. Although he was not sure what time White Clothes had appeared, it was definitely in the afternoon nine days ago. Was there a connection between the two events?

But then, White Clothes had appeared before, having been summoned once by the former apartment master due to the creation of Ghost Pills.

The only difference this time was that Alexander had fought a battle with the hell warrior, and more importantly, had found a method to mass-produce Ghost Pills.

"Is something the matter?" Seeing Alexander’s serious expression, Quillhart paused and asked.

"It’s nothing; go on, what happened next?" Alexander shook his head. Sensing that he didn’t want to talk, Quillhart respectfully nodded and continued:

"The beetles appeared too suddenly and seemed endless. In the blink of an eye, the whole world was overrun by them. They gnawed frantically at anything they could and spewed out white mist.

Thankfully, they also had their flaws. Occasionally, some beetles would suffer from indigestion and be abandoned by the swarm. These, along with the white mist, bought some time for humans to survive."

"Wait!" Alexander couldn’t help but interrupt Quillhart again.

It wasn’t that he was impatient; rather, the information Quillhart was revealing was astonishing, prompting Alexander to inquire, "Are you saying that the white mist is sprayed out from the bodies of these black beetles?"

"Yes! We speculate that the Mist is excreted by these black beetles after they consume things. Those that are abandoned are the beetles with digestive issues."

Human like Quillhart acquired their Ghost Energy and forbidden powers by directly absorbing the corpses of the beetles, unaware of the relationship between Mist and forbidden.

Of course, even as Chosen Ones, given their status in the Horror World, it’s tough for them to have access to such knowledge. They naturally wouldn’t know about the existence of the Mist World or anything of the sort.

But Alexander knew!

He had originally thought that the white mist in the real world had invaded from the Mist World in the Horror World. But it turned out not to be the case at all. The Mist in the real world was actually excreted by these beetles.

So what about the Mist World? Could it also be produced by these beetles? Why had he never seen or heard of these beetles in the Horror World?

Many questions crowded Alexander’s mind, suppressed as he signaled for Quillhart to continue.

"Due to the appearance of the black beetles, the Earth plunged into chaos in no time. All semblance of order was obliterated. Had it not been for the appearance of Thorneblade, humanity would likely have been wiped out in short order."

"This Thorneblade you keep mentioning—who is she? What’s her name?" Alexander asked again.

"Thorneblade..." Every time that name was mentioned, deep reverence filled Quillhart’s eyes. He took a moment before responding, "She is a beautiful, wise woman, almost god-like. All of us survivors consider her a deity. Her name is Sophia!"

It was Sophia indeed!

Upon hearing Quillhart’s words, Alexander felt a sense of relief wash over him.If Sophia was involved, then things should be more manageable!

Perhaps this journey into the real world would solve a lot of problems for Alexander. The unknown had been a constant worry since his arrival, but knowing Sophia—a native of the Graveyard Community—lessened his fears.

With this new comfort, he followed Quillhart into the bar.

"Quillhart, back from hunting today? How did it go?"

"Heard the swarm of bugs passed right over the district you’re responsible for. You must have made a fortune!"

"The gentleman with you—why does he seem familiar? A new survivor?"

"You’ve reached the Imperial rank? Haha, seems you got quite the haul! Aren’t you treating us to a round?"

As Quillhart entered, survivors who clearly knew him began to tease.

"No problem!" Quillhart replied, not one to be stingy. He walked to the counter and slapped a piece of a king-tier beetle on the table. "Drinks for everyone in the house today are on this gentleman right here, Alexander!"

The body of the king-tier beetle was divided into pieces the size of rice grains, each piece equivalent to a Ghost Soldier’s Ghost Energy level. Evidently, here in this world, the corpses of black beetles functioned as a kind of currency.

The mood in the bar elevated instantly at Quillhart’s proclamation. All survivors cheered and toasted, their eyes on Alexander shifting.

Indeed, in the current survivor base, beetles did serve as currency. A king-tier beetle was a substantial fortune.

Among the survivors, not everyone had Quillhart’s capabilities. Most people could use their Ghost Nerve to absorb the free-floating Ghost Energy from the air, achieving something akin to cultivation. But the speed of such cultivation was painfully slow.

As a result, the survivor community was divided into two vastly different segments. Almost 70% were at the lowest levels, too afraid to go hunting, and stayed within the base trying to become stronger through cultivation.

The remaining were either risk-takers or those who had found beetles when the disaster struck. The weakest among these folks were of the Fierce rank, as there were no soldier-tier black beetles to begin with.

Even for those who had reached the level of Ghost King or even Imperial, a single king-tier beetle could substantially boost their abilities. Naturally, they wouldn’t easily part with it.

So it was indeed surprising when Quillhart, usually a penny-pincher because he had nieces and nephews to consider, willingly pulled out a king-tier beetle to treat everyone, and did so in Alexander’s name.

"Quillhart, you’re feeling generous today! Mind introducing us to your friend here?"