Some people were alive, but they were already dead; some people were dead, but they were still alive.
Some people carved their names into stone, hoping for immortality. Some were willing to be wild grass, waiting for the fire beneath the ground to burn.
A human life only lasted a few decades or a century. No one didn't want to make a permanent name for themselves and stand at the very top.
On Earth, Su Mo failed to make most people remember him. He couldn't even leave a deep impression on anyone other than his family.
But in this wasteland, it was no exaggeration.
If there was anything these surviving remnants had to firmly etch into their minds, it would definitely be...
His face!
In the wasteland, this face represented rules. It represented Hope.
Likewise, to ordinary people, it represented survival!
"rare is Su Mo, Su Mo is rare... no wonder, no wonder!"
