A man's shout echoed from far away. The old woman responded with an "Eh," tucked the blanket around him, and turned to leave.

Her hand brushed dangerously close to Evan Carter's neck, sending goosebumps all over Evan Carter's body. He struggled to breathe and took a long time to recover.

The old woman's action was nothing more than a normal act of kindness, but Evan Carter couldn't stand physical contact. The blanket was strangely damp, cold as iron, and pulling it tight was even more uncomfortable than not covering up at all—truly unbearable.

Once the old woman had gone far enough, he got up from the bed, pushed open the sticky wooden door, and looked outside. What he saw were equally dilapidated houses, clustered in small groups, resembling a village. The courtyard he was in sat on the outskirts of the village, beyond which lay abandoned farmland. Further out, everything was shrouded in gray mist—nothing could be seen.

The sky was odd, very dark. If it was early morning, every household was already up and about, with smoke curling from chimneys; if it was evening, that didn't fit either, as the sky was gray-black, starless and moonless, with not a trace of sunset glow—just shifting shadows, an ominous atmosphere. He couldn't make sense of it for the moment and wanted to observe more, but when he saw villagers moving about outside, the leg he was about to step out with shrank back, and he turned to go back inside.

The room was truly unremarkable—both shabby and messy. The only furniture was a bed and a table in front of it. There was no mirror, so he couldn't see what he looked like. He recalled the old woman's words: "little fool," "little mad dog," and guessed that this body probably did belong to someone with intellectual disabilities. He had no idea what kind of face he now wore.

He ran his hand through his hair, as messy as weeds, and Evan Carter felt a little suffocated.

Just then, the courtyard gate creaked open, and footsteps sounded behind him. He turned to see the old woman again.

She was carrying a white bowl, stepped over the threshold, and called out like calling a dog, "Little fool, time to eat!"

After calling, she saw the little fool turn his head and stare straight at her. His expression still didn't look quite normal, but it was very different from before.

The old woman frowned. "Fell in the water once, and now you're even more foolish."

With that, she put the bowl on the table and turned to leave.

In this world, there aren't many quiet people—fools are among them, because no one talks to a fool. This was something Evan Carter had always longed for, but now it wouldn't do. He had to communicate with someone, or else he'd be stuck here as a fool for life. He liked peace and quiet, but he didn't want to be a fool—especially not one lying under a moldy blanket in a moldy room.

So, just as the old woman was about to leave, she heard a slightly trembling voice behind her: "......Thank you."

The old woman exclaimed, "Aiya!"

She spun around. "You're not a fool anymore!"

Evan Carter nodded stiffly.

The old woman nearly broke into a dance, raising her voice to shout outside, "The little fool isn't a fool anymore!"

A jumble of footsteps sounded, and in no time a crowd of sallow, skinny villagers gathered at the door, craning their necks excitedly to look inside.

"The little fool isn't a fool anymore?"

"The little fool really isn't a fool anymore?"

"The little fool really has woken up!"

Evan Carter: "......"

How could a fool suddenly becoming smart cause such a commotion?

The old woman set down the bowl, trembling as she stepped forward and grabbed Evan Carter's hand. "Did you... do you remember anything?"

Evan Carter: "!!!"

The moment the old woman grabbed him, his hair stood on end, his vision went black, and he staggered back a few steps as if struck by lightning, nearly losing his soul.

Unexpectedly, the old woman dropped to her knees. "Please, you must save us!"

Seeing her kneel, the villagers all followed suit, kowtowing at the door. "Please, you must save us!"

Evan Carter moved his lips, struggling to form words, wanting to ask why these people were kneeling to him.

But he hadn't spoken in so long, he couldn't get the words out.

He managed to say, "What do you want me to do?"

Several people started talking at once, with the old woman's voice the loudest. Fortunately, although Evan Carter could barely speak, he could still understand, and he managed to piece together their meaning.

Ten years ago, some unknown demon or monster brought disaster—whatever it was, it was a great calamity. Just as the whole village was on the brink of destruction, an immortal passed by, used magic to protect the place for ten years, and left a wooden-faced little fool with the villagers, saying he was his disciple.

The villagers asked if the magic would last ten years, what would happen after that.

The immortal spoke in riddles, saying things like "wait for fate to arrive," and then drifted away.

Now, the ten years are almost up, the magical barrier is about to collapse, and the little fool is no longer a fool. Clearly, fate has arrived, and the villagers are overjoyed, hoping this suddenly enlightened little fool will have a way to save them.

Evan Carter looked outside.

It was still the same scene—demonic mist and ghostly fog blanketing the land. They said that within the fog, all life was extinguished, filled only with zombies and evil spirits. The whole village was like a lonely island at sea, cut off from the outside world for ten years. No matter how hard the villagers tried, there was no way out. If he had no solution either, he would be trapped here just the same.