These poor souls even banded together, wearing similarly styled strange clothes, setting up tables right at the entrance to block the way, making the Ghost Gate, which should have been free-flowing, congested and slow.
And with this alarming chaos, the death that should have smoothly flowed according to the rules in the whole world was inevitably greatly affected, becoming... smoother?
"..."
This can't be right, can it?
Scratching out his eyeball covered with the essence of death and wiping it, after confirming there was no mistake, the Graveyard Dominator hurriedly shoved the eyeball back into its socket and once more observed the situation in the Realm of the Dead.
He wasn't seeing it wrong—the death world before him, though mixed with a vast amount of living aura and as chaotic as a bird's nest made of weeds, not only wasn't the authority of death destroyed, but it had even become more stable and fluent.
