Where Is the Promised Hunjun?

I died yesterday and woke up today. I bloom in the midst of killing, and also in the mountains and forests. The world only knows that the future is prosperous and people come from all over the world. But they didn't know that the scene was closed in smoke, and all the enemies and invaders could go. I wrote down the word "World". From then on, failure is also lonely, success is also lonely, paranoia is lonely, and prosperity is also lonely. When you tell this story, the orphan lives on and never leaves. If you like someone, just collect them~ this is a black hole Intention: