Global Collapse

Although 007 now has the face of an upper class, this expression still seems somewhat out of place on her face.

At this moment, she had already slowly pushed the first ballot into Gu Mian's ballot box. There seemed to be some kind of automatic scanning device in the ballot box, and a "ding" sound could be heard from the ballot box—it made this sound every time a ballot was thrown in.

007 glanced at the number of votes in Gu Mian's box through the tiny voting slot, unable to discern the exact number, but roughly estimated it to be three or four hundred votes.

Only the top 50 can advance, and the 50th place currently has 823 votes, and the number of votes is still increasing.

Although Gu Mian was highly sought after by the upper class, and passersby would inevitably vote for him, the number of votes was far from enough to support his advancement. He had to do something to attract the attention of the upper class.

As she thought about it, she slowly pushed the other ballot in her hand into the ballot box in front of her, trying to prolong the time and stay there a little longer to help Gu Mian think of a solution.

"I guarantee that if I climb the ladder, it will just happen to break and I'll fall down when I reach a height where I'll fall to my death, or even worse, the hot air balloon above me will explode due to a quality issue." In an instant, Gu Mian had already foreseen two ways he would die.

Climbing a ladder is definitely out of the question.

007 whispered, "I also think climbing the ladder is not a good idea. Actually, even if you don't make it into the top fifty, you can still enter the second and third stage venues. The Mad Building Manager has extra Upper Class identity cards. If you can't make it, you can just use an Upper Class identity to go to the audience."

007's method is actually the simplest and most convenient. This way, Gu Mian doesn't have to go through layers of "selection" and can directly enter the final stage as a superior.

However, directly using the status of an upper-class person could lead to some instability.

In the final stage, the audience seats are still some distance from the stage. If the host pulls a stunt and suspends Louis from a distance, only the lower-class contestants can get close. If Gu Mian is in the audience, he might not be able to take Louis away when using the [Key No. 108 from the Mysterious World].

Participating in the competition as a person of lower status is the safest approach.

007 had already voted, and she made way for Chu Changge to vote.

Chu Changge's movements were also slow. He voted with one hand and pushed up his glasses with the other: "More and more licenses are appearing."

After 1062 was the first, the remaining licenses sprang up like mushrooms after rain.

More and more participants landed in hot air balloons, where they were then faced with a "physical test."

It's worth mentioning that, to this day, no one has been able to successfully obtain a license and go on stage.

Some permits were even torn up in the struggle. The participants were so engrossed in the fight that they seemed to have forgotten that their goal was the permits, and their minds were only focused on the act of seizing them.

The scene was chaotic, with the lower classes huddled together in small groups, beating each other, while the upper classes strolled among them, watching the performance of the lower classes with satisfaction.

The contestants, their eyes bloodshot, raised their fists and unleashed powerful blows on their own kind, yet no one dared to lay a hand on the elite. The elite walked with their heads held high, basking in the chaotic, disorderly crowd, enjoying their special treatment as if they were the most dazzling white lotuses in the world, untouched by the mud.

In the central square, covered with white lotuses and silt, someone finally struck a fatal blow—a lowly person pulled a sharpened, pre-prepared wooden stick from his pocket and stabbed it at his fellow human.

The person who was stabbed let out a sharp cry of pain, opened their eyes wide, and fell to the ground unwillingly.

A prepared person infiltrated a group of unarmed contestants.

1195 was already quite tall for a lower-class person, and now that he had a weapon, no one else could match him.

Driven by their instinct to seek advantage and avoid harm, the lower-class people did not fight with the armed No. 1195, but instead plunged into the other crowds who were vying for licenses.

The people around dispersed.

1195 bent down and pulled the license tightly clutched in the corpse's hand.

When he bends over, his lumbar vertebrae make a slight cracking sound. This is a lingering effect of an injury he sustained while fighting with others for food in his neighborhood. Whenever it's cloudy or rainy, or when he bends over, his back will ache terribly, and even the slightest movement will produce a soft cracking sound.

This is a huge weakness.

If this weakness is discovered, he'll never get enough food again. Others will focus their attacks on his vulnerable lower back when competing for food, and he'll soon be defeated and starve to death.

Therefore, he carefully guarded this secret and never revealed it to others.

It's still happening now. The struggle just now inevitably required him to stretch his back, and the scene was quite chaotic. During the fight, someone's fist hit his back randomly.

The punch made him feel as if his back had shifted. He seemed to hear a crisp sound coming from his waist, but he wasn't sure if it was really his waist making the sound.

However, the pain is real.

He was in excruciating pain in his lower back, and bending down to pick up the license had only exacerbated his already serious back injury.

But he didn't show it at all. He just stiffly lifted his leg and walked onto the stage, clutching the blood-stained wooden stick in his hand.

The other contestants were afraid of the weapon in his hand, and no one dared to cause him any trouble.

Therefore, 1095 successfully arrived at the stage. Before going on stage, he deliberately put the blood-stained wooden stick back into his pocket, as if afraid that it would leave a bad impression on the upper class.

He only breathed a sigh of relief the moment his feet touched the platform.

The danger was truly over when he arrived here; no one would rush up to snatch the license from his hand.

Thinking about it made the pain in his lower back lessen.

But what is a "speech"? 1095 vaguely knows the concept, knows that it is something that requires speaking to a lot of people.

But he didn't know how to begin, or how long to speak.

He feared that his appearance might be unpleasant and cause people to dislike him, so he hesitated and fell into a brief state of confusion.

In fact, his worries were unfounded; the upper-class people noticed him as soon as he took out a sharpened wooden stick and stabbed others.

He was the first person to turn his sword against his own kind and kill them.

Compared to him, the fights among the other contestants were nothing but minor squabbles.

The number of votes for No. 1095 had already begun to climb steadily. The moment he stepped onto the stage, his votes on the screen had just surpassed those of the original first place, but he was completely unaware of this and was still anxious about whether he was likable.

He hesitated for a long time before finally managing to come up with a barely acceptable speech in his mind.

He gripped the hem of his shirt tightly with both hands; there was a patch there, and one corner was curled up, giving a slightly rough feel when touched.

He smoothed out the curled patch three times before carefully speaking, "Number 1095 is me... I won't let you down, please... vote for me, thank you..."

He didn't look up at the esteemed people in the audience once throughout the entire event; he didn't dare to meet their gaze, feeling that he wasn't worthy to do so.

This was 1095's first speech, but it ended with just one sentence.

After he finished speaking, the teacher still had a slightly puzzled expression on his face, as if he didn't understand why he didn't continue.

When he saw 1095 awkwardly lower his head, the teacher realized that his "speech" was over.

The speeches of the lower classes were indeed boring. Luckily, I prepared this ladder game, instead of being foolish enough to let the lower classes line up to give speeches like the two neighboring residential areas did. The Killing Teacher felt bored, but still led the applause.

This was, after all, his venue. Even though the speeches by lower-class people were boring, he still had to liven up the atmosphere.

Fortunately, some viewers enjoyed seeing contestants' timid expressions, and 1095's speech did not annoy the audience. On the contrary, his votes kept rising, almost reaching 1,500 votes, leaving the second place far behind.

The teacher looked at the rankings on the screen with satisfaction, but then he suddenly realized something was wrong—another contestant's ranking was rising at a strange speed.

At first glance, he was in 97th place, but in the blink of an eye, he gained more than a hundred votes and went up to 62nd place!
Each audience member only has two votes, which means that more than fifty people would have to vote in his ballot box at the same time in the blink of an eye.

The teacher thought there was something wrong with his eyes.

But the next second he realized he wasn't seeing things, because that person jumped up again, this time gaining over two hundred more votes and squeezing into the top fifty. (End of Chapter)