But I have to say, the fat man's thought processes are indeed different from others. When people see such a scene, at most they're just curious, just holding a long-awaited expectation, coming in to take a look. But he's different; he can connect a lot of things from just one matter, whether you can think of it or not, he can associate them. He even feels he has the potential to be a fantasist.

While lifting his foot, the fat man's mind was imagining. He is absolutely not a fantasist, although these are just his pure mental supplements. Yet, the fat man believes that his sense of crisis and sixth sense are stronger than anyone else's. As a soldier, as an already retired soldier, as a veteran who survived countless deadly encounters on the battlefield, relying on perception, his sense of crisis must be stronger than others.

At this moment, the fat man finally takes the first step forward. Yes, he knows he can't retreat; no matter what awaits him ahead, he will face it bravely, just like he once did. Even if this night-shift security job in the sewer is not secured, he cannot shrink back. At worst, he'll switch to another Mecha game and start being a leech again.

As a leech, the sudden bankruptcy of the Galactic Warfare company casts a thick frost over his already not-so-wealthy life. But he must choose to be optimistic because a game is just a game. Although harming others and benefiting self isn't a good thing, he enjoys it. Isn't playing the game about seeking a thrill that can't be experienced in reality?

In this regard, the fat man considers himself a good person. I'll do the dirty and tiring work, be the bad guy. Because of me, you can experience the joy and anger that can't be felt in the game.

At this point, the fat man had already taken the second step, but his mind was simultaneously playing countless images. The road ten meters away from the Galactic Warfare company's gate seemed like a long marathon to the fat man now.

But, no matter what awaits him ahead, the fat man determines to walk forward bravely, feeling all kinds of people brushing past him, witnessing couples talking and laughing, showing love, but he remains unmoved. As a father, he only wants to be a sewer guard.

Then the fat man constantly reminisces about his glorious experiences as a night-shift security guard at the Dawn Office Building, stepping toward the Galactic Warfare Company's gate.

With some apprehension, like the heart of a little deer beating randomly, the fat man finally enters the chaotic exhibition hall of the Galactic Warfare Company as the electronic door opens.

However, at this time, the fat man did not open his eyes. He wants to feel the atmosphere around him, to hear what everyone is saying and doing, to judge how bad the company is through this.

Not to mention anything else, just Hans, that person, the grand boss of the Galactic Warfare Company, can be friends with me, a sewer night watch corpse guard. That alone shows how bad the company has gotten.

Even Hans has fallen to the level of cleansing sewers; would this group of miserable employees be unable to even get their salaries?

Slowly, slowly, little by little...

The fat man finally decided to open his eyes because the noise around was too chaotic for him to discern the scene inside. So he decided to open his eyes. Of course, the second reason for opening his eyes was that the first reason could not be realized. Although he wanted to make this process slower, it seems not easy to achieve, at least for a fat man with no special abilities. He can't comprehend a person's voice or the thoughts of those around him as precisely as the way Sky Shadow Mengdie would. He's just an ordinary person, an ordinary citizen, but every citizen has their own way of behaving. This, evidently, is the fat man's unique thought process compared to ordinary people, and with the operation of his thought process, his way of behaving also differs somewhat from others.

Yet the fat man doesn't care about these things. Everyone's thought process is essentially the same; they are restricted by worldly views, but in the fat man's eyes, this has no practical significance, so he rarely cares about others' opinions of him.

Thus, upon entering the Dawn Office Building, the fat man chose to use his way to slowly absorb this abnormal process.

The only thing he can confirm is that the Galactic Warfare Company must have a big move planned. As for what kind of big move, the fat man doesn't know. But he can continue to imagine.

Starting from the profits of the Star Wars company over the years, originally, this company was indeed good. When the virus outbreak hit, it started downhill, but the impact was not solely on the Star Wars company. Many other miserable companies were hit devastatingly. That kind of hit was dimensional; from three-dimensional to two-dimensional, from two-dimensional to one-dimensional, from being normal to becoming a lunatic. But Hans was never a normal person, so the fat man assumes Hans might have totally gone mad today.

Regardless of whether he's pretending or truly crazy, this person is most likely mad, so the Galactic Warfare company has only three outcomes: declaring bankruptcy.

As for the other two outcomes, the fat man doesn't know because he's never run a company. He only knows one thing: without money, one will go bankrupt. But he can continue to imagine.

No, better behave decently and stop imagining. Although mental supplementing is a good habit, too much imagination can damage the brain, with the death of brain cells becoming less and less. This cannot be ignored for a grown man since a man is the pillar of the family. With the reduction of intelligence, future work will also be more challenging, which might manifest in communication with others, in the work process, or in daily life.

The fat man believes that the reduction of intelligence seems trivial, but it could accompany a lifetime. Although he escaped the pain of being the sole survivor, for a man like him with responsibility, the pressure of lowered intelligence remains significant; even if not for himself, for his wife, for his next generation.

Thinking like this, the fat man suddenly feels his thought processes are indeed unique—why did he start his habitual imagining again? Could it be that he's gone mad or sick? No, he's not sick; others are. The world is wrong. If the world can have a little more love, if each power could provide more support for the families of battlefield-wounded veterans, he wouldn't have to fret everyday doing sewer jobs and taking pleasure in them, tireless in games.

Until this moment, Zhang Xiaobo the fat man finally opened his eyes. His sharp eyes, rare indeed, burst out with an unprecedented gleam. This is an important moment in life concerning his night-shift security guard career. Even a person like him adopts a more solemn attitude than usual.

This solemnity is not normal; it includes his commemoration of this tricky game, his bittersweet experiences over the years in that endless cycle of tricking and being tricked. It's a scar of an era, a highlight in his life, the brilliance of his existence.

The fat man exhaled deeply, and what greeted his eyes was a light.

Indeed, when a person closes their eyes for a while and suddenly opens them, they will find the world much brighter. He tries to open his small eyes wider, to see the road ahead clearly, to see the future direction clearly, to see...

Just then, someone suddenly slapped his shoulder.

"Hey bro, what are you doing? Been waiting for you for a while, will you let others through?"

Ah? The fat man's thoughts seemed to be pulled back from a distant space to reality instantly. He reflexively looked at the person behind him and moved one step aside. The guy behind seemed a bit puzzled, looking at the fat man with confusion in his eyes. Is this guy sick?

The man's little girlfriend was next to him, scrutinizing him up and down, brushing past...

"Damn it, I was mistaken for an idiot!?"

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