Forge a path to success.

Chapter 352 City-State Independence Act
Suddenly they heard a terrifying roar, like the battle cry of ancient giants charging towards the Black Moon. They froze for a few seconds before realizing it was the shopkeeper's angry roar.

The otter's editor's cup fell to the ground. It stared blankly at the water curtain, its mouth moving unnaturally. It seemed to have exhausted all its strength to utter just a few syllables.

“This isn’t real…” it said. “It’s ridiculous.”

"They've all gone mad!! They've all gone mad!!!" the crucian carp manager screamed.

The scream ignited everyone's emotions. The visiting strangers, the shop assistants who hadn't yet left, and even the bewildered civilians outside the bookstore—it was only then that everyone gradually grasped the situation, and then anxiety swept through the city like a tidal wave. The quiet city instantly transformed into a raging inferno, with people running out of their homes and yelling at anyone they could see.

Supporters of the bill cheered, while opponents clenched their anger and shock into fists that lashed out at their fellow citizens. Some smashed windows in rage, panicked people set fires in the streets, but the Guardians of the City failed to act in time; they too were bewildered by the news. The ancient city nearly collapsed in mere seconds, every life becoming a whistling grain of sand in the avalanche.

Suddenly, the extreme chaos was forcibly stopped. Chu Hengkong unfurled his Death Wings, the claw marks between his bony wings as dense as rain. He restricted the movement of every living being within the maximum range, a restriction that lasted for about two seconds, after which wooden guns appeared out of thin air throughout the streets. Knowing that the third team had reacted, he wearily retracted his Death Wings.

“I don’t understand,” he said.

He truly couldn't understand why, even though they all knew the contents of that absurd bill and how ridiculous the politicians' delusions were, they never imagined it would one day become a reality.

To break away from the Mysterious Realm and become an independent Dust Island? To carve a piece of land comparable to a continent from the Mysterious Realm and take 1.5 billion people to drift into the Sea of ​​Illusions? How could such a fantasy possibly succeed? Even if Jing Sha's divine power could truly protect all living beings from the threat of demons, what would happen to them afterward? What would become of the Mysterious Realm, which would be missing a quarter of its territory? What about the desperate battlefront? What about the other Dust Islands?

He was not good at calculations and situational analysis, but even so, he knew the enormous impact of such a strange event; the world as people knew it would collapse directly.

Gulibo sat down on the ground with a thud, his small eyes blank as a sheet of paper.

"Independent? Independent?" it said, trembling. "Then what will happen to the desperate front? Will we... cross the ocean to support everyone...?"

"There's no longer a front line!" the editor roared. "Don't you understand? The front line existed because the city-states held the front lines, but it physically disappeared after the city-states gained independence! There's no land behind the front line anymore, so what kind of war can we fight?!"

"The fortress at the front line has disappeared, and the warriors have nowhere to retreat..." Ji Huaisu murmured to himself, "Shura Island would never fight such a battle, and even the martial arts practitioners could not possibly hold their ground on the coastline after that..."

"After that, the great war will begin."

Trek appeared before them, his expression both calm and somber: "Only two forces remain on this vast land: the Empire of Truth and the Spiral Tower. Originally, the Thorn Robe and the Battlefront were the only buffer between these two behemoths. After the Thorn Robe became independent, they will devour the Secret Realm within a few days, wiping out all life in the Secret Realm and its surroundings. They will cross the Netherworld in the south, all the way to the other side of the coastline..."

He paused for a moment: "And wipe out the entire Huilong City, now that it has lost its barrier."

Ji Huaisu bit her lip tightly: "And then?"

“Once the existing territorial resources are divided up, the two opposing factions will clash directly,” Trek said. “Then it will no longer be a small-scale border war; the border will be their homeland. The gods of both sides will mobilize in full force, the Sorcerer Supreme and the Philosopher Emperor will personally lead the battle, and the aftershocks of the war will sweep across countless dust islands. Whether the other forces like it or not, they will all be swept up in the struggle between the supreme beings. At that time…”

"The Second World War is about to begin," Chu Hengkong said.

In just a few words, a catastrophic picture unfolded before everyone—a hell about to descend upon the human world. Most of the people in the Submerged Realm were still alive because the situation was barely maintaining a balance, but once Jing Sha became independent, that balance would collapse instantly, and the consequences were self-evident.

"There must be a way to hold out!" Lico said anxiously. "Please, Shura Island, hold out a little longer until the main force from Longquan Township arrives..."

"Coming here to guard a hopeless wasteland?" Vande retorted. "This isn't a matter of fighting spirit. The key to war lies in logistics. Gods and demigods don't worry about food, but even a 5-point mass needs to eat! The battle line can be maintained thanks to the supplies provided by the city-states over thousands of years. If even the main camp is gone, what kind of war can we fight?!"

"So that's really it?" Lico said blankly. "Just because of this stupid bill, World War II will start?"

“No, it won’t,” Vilbert said.

While everyone else was arguing, she remained focused on the water screen, listening to Parriman's speech. She spoke calmly and deliberately, as if she had expected this: "The Supreme Beings will not allow a great war to break out so easily. Even the true form of the Heretic would not want to see such a hasty confrontation. Perhaps it will be the Lord of the Broken Heart, or perhaps the Lord of the Ethereal Life. A Supreme Being will personally come to the Mysterious Realm of Senluo, and the World Tree will use its great power to recreate the territory, filling in a second front of the desperate battle."

But that doesn't mean the problem is solved. If the Lord of the Broken Heart comes to guard it, the sharp blade that once deterred the heretical gods will no longer exist, and the Realm of Sinking will return to its darkest period. High-quality heretics will descend on their own, arriving and departing like a hurricane, leaving only a broken tragedy.

If the Misty Fate Lord were to come and guard the land, the defenses of Longquan Township would become weak, forcing the martial artists from Longquan Township who roamed the lands to return and defend the homeland, leading to the destruction of numerous small and medium-sized dust islands. Zhulong would then have to simultaneously fight the Abyss and guard the homeland, significantly increasing its pressure. The days in the Shrouding Realm would thus be shortened to 6-7 hours, with a few border dust islands receiving less than 4 hours of sunlight. The power of the First Abyss would shift, and the Shrouding Realm would gradually be shrouded in long nights.

Wilbert concluded: "No matter what choices are made, the world will be heading towards a slow death."

“I can’t think of anything worse,” Vande said, stunned.

“Indeed, there is more,” Wilbert continued. “Mr. Trek mentioned logistics earlier. The city-state of Thorns is also the largest granary within the Allied territory. Thorns’ independence will cause about 7000 medium-sized dust islands and 30000 small dust islands around the secret realm to lose their food supply, and many more dust islands will be secondary affected by the trade disruption. Parriman mentioned rebuilding the shipping route centered on the new city-state, but this project will take at least a year, and before it is completed, more than 10 billion intelligent beings will die of famine…”

She recalculated and changed her words, saying, "However, the heretics will arrive first by following the trend before they starve to death, and they will be slaughtered in hunger."

"Thank you, Miss Violet. Please pause this situation analysis and give us some time to calm down," said the Great Seal. Someone yelled, "Want to die?"

Nothing could describe the feelings of the local people at this moment other than the sky falling. What is more despairing than the impending hell is that hundreds of millions of citizens are completely unaware of this, and they are even celebrating the passage of the bill, rejoicing that they can stay away from the war.

That cry of "I want to die" truly captured the feelings of everyone present. They genuinely wanted to die; seeing such a bastard passing by right in front of them and being powerless to stop him, they wished they could slit their own throats for these idiots.

Then, anxiety spread.

"Then what should we do?"

One of the shop assistants whispered, "With the Divine Tree here, we won't die..."

"What about the other Dust Isles? What about the billions of people there?!"

"How should I know? This is beyond my imagination! Besides, I voted against it!"

"The situation may not be that bad!"

"What do you know about the situation? You didn't even cast a vote!"

"I don't even understand the Third Lineage, how can I vote for a city-state!"

Everyone was dizzy and confused, blaming each other as if scolding the person next to them would solve the problem. Faced with such a massive disaster, everyone panicked. The scale of the problem far exceeded even the most pessimistic expectations, and psychological preparation was almost zero, because before today, no one had ever thought that the bill could actually pass.

“This kind of bill needs to be double-checked by both the citizens and the Senate!” Lico shouted. “It’s one thing for the lawmakers to be controlled by Parryman, but are the citizens really that stupid?”

“The Vitex Festival incident was the final trigger,” Trek told her. “The bill’s opponents and terrorists were lumped together, Parryman’s speech further fueled the public’s resistance, and even people who didn’t care about politics sided with the bill because the festival was ruined… On that day, some opinion leaders were supposed to lead the protests, but they were found to have voted in favor, which threw the opposition into chaos, leaving them unable to care about anything else.”

Vande felt a headache coming on: "Pariman turned them against us?"

“I think his method was simpler.” Trek conjured a small mushroom. “He could have a small number of people ingest Inspiration Mushroom powder before the vote, and then use the mushroom to manipulate their opinions. Unfortunately, everyone was busy fighting at the time and didn’t have the energy to deal with such petty tricks.”

The old octopus was also in the bookstore, hiding in a corner, looking completely bewildered: "I never imagined something like this would happen when I was growing mushrooms!!"

"It turns out it's your fault!"

"Isn't it the voters' fault?"

"What's the point of saying all this now?"

"Are we just going to stand here and watch everyone else die?!"

At that moment, a sharp clang rang out, silencing everyone's argument.

Chu Hengkong lightly tapped the hilt of his sword. He remained seated on the sofa, unmoved by the argument. As usual, like an detached observer, he asked, "What's our next step?"

Lico stared blankly and said, "The bill has already passed, so what's the next step?"

"There are still 30 days before the bill is implemented, more than enough time, what's the rush?" Chu Hengkong laughed. "Boss, you came to Jingsha with work to do, you're not going to give up so easily, are you?"

"It hasn't even started yet, let alone whether it will win or lose."

Vilbert glanced at her watch and turned off the water screen projection. She stood up, leaning on her cane, and said, "It's almost time; my application should be approved."

"What application?"

"An application to have an audience with the sacred tree of thorns."

The wind chimes at the door rang again, and a man dressed in black aristocratic attire stepped into the bookstore to the crisp sound of the bells. He nodded to everyone in turn and extended his hand towards the door.

“Please follow me,” Banningtik said.

(End of this chapter)