Every participant in this assassination attempt against the First Emperor was rooted to the spot.
Their initial strikes against ordinary civilians had been meant to incite mass panic. Instead, the bizarre phenomenon before them had paralyzed them with fear.
"Sister, could it be that all of them are—?"
Randgriz's cherry lips trembled as the words escaped.
Even she was slightly shaken by the scene unfolding before her.
The wounds on the attacked civilians showed no trace of blood—because there was no flesh inside.
Through the gashes, intricate mechanical components were visible.
In other words, these civilians weren't human at all. Like Xiang Yu, their souls had been transferred into mechanical bodies.
In this state, they felt no pain, ignoring all attacks as if nothing had happened.
The sight was nothing short of horrifying.
At the same time, Randgriz found it deeply cruel.
She refused to believe that such a vast number of people—nearly the entire city's population—had willingly abandoned their flesh to become mechanical constructs.
They had lost not only the ability to feel pain but, it seemed, all other emotions as well. Were they being controlled?
Perhaps brainwashed.
If so, they had been stripped of their humanity, reduced to soulless mechanical puppets.
They were even worse off than Xiang Yu. At least when she had seen him, aside from his mechanical body, he had still seemed like a human with emotions and awareness.
Upon closer inspection, some individuals hadn't reacted at all—appearing to be genuine civilians.
Among them, a few had been startled when nearby "people" suddenly lashed out with violence. But their terror only deepened when they saw the "victims" remain unharmed, behaving unnaturally.
Others, though not witnessing any attacks, still noticed the eerie behavior of those around them.
So… what exactly was going on with these people?
These people must be the ones who came from other places knowing about today's military parade ceremony, just to watch the spectacle.
So, they are real, flesh-and-blood humans.
However, having witnessed such a secret, these people will likely meet the same fate.
Their souls will be forcibly extracted from their bodies, transferred into machines, imprisoned within them, becoming puppets controlled by the First Emperor.
It is precisely such an army that can be invincible in battle.
Ordinary human soldiers could never defeat these fearless mechanical puppets that feel no pain.
"Don't be so quick to anger, Randgriz," her sister beside her suddenly spoke, seemingly seeing through her thoughts and understanding the reason for her rage.
"Try to recall carefully if there have been any changes from the beginning of the inspection until now," she reminded her.
Could it be that the situation wasn't as she thought?
Randgriz carefully recalled the scene from the moment the First Emperor stepped onto the inspection platform.
Hmm? There did seem to be something slightly off—was there a faint fluctuation in the scene? A blur?
It was like a video being played that had a very slight flicker due to some interference. But because the image was dynamic and the fluctuation was brief, unless one paid close attention, it would go unnoticed.
But what did this mean?
Randgriz couldn't discern any issue from such a minor change.
No, Randgriz noticed something else.
It was like a person standing before her—suppose their height was 175 centimeters, right?
In the next second—or rather, the next frame of the footage—the height abruptly changed to 180 centimeters.
Since the attire remained identical, this transformation would go unnoticed without close scrutiny.
Moreover, though the clothing was of the same style, subtle differences could be spotted in the folds. These weren't wrinkles caused by movement but rather discrepancies in how the garments were worn—for instance, the sleeves, previously rolled up, were now unrolled in the next frame.
Additionally, the clothes in the earlier frame appeared noticeably worn, while those in the next seemed brand new.
And this phenomenon wasn't isolated—it appeared to be widespread.
Hmm? Another anomaly caught the eye: one of the assassins attacking a target ahead had the exact same face as their victim.
Wasn't that bizarre? Why would someone disguise themselves as an assassin?
Furthermore, there was a more general abnormality: the heights of the civilians in the previous frame varied, didn't they? Some were taller, others shorter.
Yet in the next frame, every civilian's height was uniformly standardized.
Of course, children didn't suddenly grow into adults. But looking around, kids of similar ages also matched the same specifications—like mass-produced dolls from a modern assembly line, differing only in facial features and attire.
This was even more unsettling.
However, during this momentary fluctuation, a portion of people remained entirely unchanged: the assassins causing the chaos and those who had traveled from afar to witness the ceremony.
"Sister, what on earth is going on?"
Though she noticed these discrepancies, Randgriz still couldn't grasp the full picture, so she turned to her sister beside her.
From the faintly upturned corners of her sister's lips—bearing a trace of amusement—it was clear she understood what was happening.
"Do you think the First Emperor forcibly stripped countless people of their flesh, imprisoning their souls within machines instead?"
"Huh? Isn't that the case?"
Her sister's tone suggested otherwise.
If that wasn't the case, then good—Randgriz didn't want to believe in such cruelty, the idea of souls being torn from bodies and bound to machinery, turning them into puppets.
It was utterly horrifying.
"No."
Brunhilde shook her head.
She saw more clearly and knew the truth.
In that fleeting fluctuation, the world had simply been replaced in an instant.
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