The people walking out of the turnstile all suddenly had a new wristband of different colors on their wrists, without knowing when it appeared.
Everyone noticed this, but right now it was hard to spare a thought for what the wristbands meant; they just stared as more and more people streamed endlessly in through the turnstile.
It seemed as if everyone was drawn in by the Rule Dungeon.
Everyone wanted to take advantage of this chance to soar to the top.
No one feared death; they were only afraid of dying for nothing—dying in pointless infighting within a small dungeon, or dying with no real hope of escape.
People had watched a lot of Rule Dungeons before, and there were even dedicated teams who analyzed them.
Everyone agreed that, compared to evil spirits that killed as they pleased, rules seemed like the only foundation for human survival.
The constraints of rules limit both humans and spirits alike.
