He took a deep breath, suppressing the surging desire within him, and stepped out at the deserted elevator entrance. As he walked, he gently rolled up his sleeves, maintaining a calm expression and steady pace, and slowly entered this bizarre and dazzling world.

On both sides, countless people were squandering their lives.

Someone shoved a bottle of whiskey with a bulging belly into his mouth, gulping it down madly, swallowing the strong liquor as if it were water. His face had even turned a dark purplish-red, showing severe signs of alcohol poisoning, yet he still unhesitatingly grabbed another bottle.

Someone, dressed in a white hospital gown, had a sallow face, purplish lips, and a vacant gaze. Clearly at death’s door, lying on a moving stretcher, his life barely sustained by an IV drip, he still had a nurse shove a plastic tube into his mouth. His emaciated chest heaved up and down as he used the last of his strength to suck in bubbling hookah smoke.

Someone was gambling, a sharp knife darting rapidly between the spread fingers of his hand.

With a “shhk,” a mistake occurred—the sharp alloy blade sliced off most of his finger, leaving only a thin layer of flesh connecting it.

He became excited, tore off the severed half of his finger, and showed it off to the people beside him.

A group of people around him cheered loudly, urging him to cut off another for fun.

……

……

William Carter found an empty corner amid the noise and discovered that the drinks here were actually free, so he grabbed a bottle of beer and started drinking.

Immediately, quite a few people around him cast disdainful glances his way.

William Carter knew that this crowd had a unique hierarchy of contempt—the more one wasted their life, the more admiration they received.

He had no desire to compete with them, so he contentedly enjoyed his free beer.

Boom! Shakalaka!

The atmosphere in the bar grew more and more intense, the music volume pushed ever higher, looping monotonously and restlessly.

Men and women in every corner became increasingly wild, their brightly colored hair whipping back and forth.

As the clock struck 1 a.m., and a huge cloud of dry ice suddenly billowed up on stage, the atmosphere reached its peak.

Everyone howled in the chaotic music, raising their hands high, as if anticipating something.

William Carter also sat up straight, his fingers unconsciously tapping on the tabletop.

“Beep—”

To the left of the dance floor, beside a heavy iron door, an electronic red light suddenly flashed, and after a moment, the door gently popped open.

Inside the bar, everyone suddenly quieted down, even the pounding music seemed to drop by several decibels.

Dozens of frenzied men and women crossed their arms over their chests; beneath their wild exteriors, there was a hint of excitement and reverence.

A man emerged, wearing a jacket encrusted with rhinestones and covered in sharp studs, his eyelids dusted with purple eyeshadow and lips painted a dark red. Half his head was shaved bald, while the other half was left long, fixed with hair gel, spiking up like a hedgehog toward one side of the sky.

His expression was indifferent yet proud as he stood in the center of the dance floor, waving his hand high in time with the music.

The crowd below grew even more excited, jumping and waving their hands so vigorously it seemed the floor itself was shaking.

The goth-styled DJ was very pleased with the atmosphere. With a wave of his hand, two shirtless, muscular men wearing black masks emerged from the iron door behind him, carrying a dark, bulky object and placing it on the stage in the middle of the dance floor.

Surprisingly, it was a black statue about a meter tall.

The statue depicted a beautiful and gentle-faced goddess.

She wore an expression of compassion, her gaze lowered, radiating a sense of holiness. She was dressed in a loose linen robe, lightly gathered at her hips.

Her bare feet stood atop lifelike clouds, as if she were a Madonna gazing mercifully down upon the world from the heavens.

“We love life…”

“We enjoy life…”

“……”

The crowd, upon seeing the statue, became even more agitated, their Adam’s apples bobbing wildly.

Yet, as if by tacit agreement, they all suppressed their shouts, and the music, like a receding tide, gradually faded. The entire bar suddenly seemed quiet, with only the multicolored lights still spinning and intertwining, wantonly slicing through the world.

A neat, low chant rose from the throats of everyone in the bar, like a collective murmur in a dream.

The goth DJ wore a mysterious smile, crossing his legs and bowing, his right hand pressed to his chest.

The gesture was elegant, carrying a sense of mystery.

Below the stage, countless faces showed devout expressions, following his lead in saluting the goddess statue.

If one ignored the flashing lights and the still-thumping, though subdued, music, it would seem more like a church.

The goddess’s features seemed even gentler.

Even the stone-carved corners of her mouth seemed to curve into a faint smile.

In the psychedelic lights, something mysterious seemed to drift lightly down upon the devout crowd.

And so, the man who had been drinking madly, whose face had moments ago looked corpse-like, quickly regained a healthy flush.

The man who had been frantically smoking hookah became energetic, sitting up from his stretcher.

The man who had sliced off his finger looked in surprise at the stump—there, the flesh was wriggling, and a new finger was beginning to grow.