Chapter 222: For Everyone’s Sake
He’d almost forgotten the Mayor’s Hotline even existed, since it hadn’t rung for so long.
He’d been living in this city for ages, and the mayor had changed to him a long time ago.
Back then, to show he cared about humanity—and not miss any info about evil spirits—he’d set up this Mayor’s Hotline.
The phone was always carried by his assistant.
If anyone had something to tell him, they could call that number.
Until today, it rarely ever rang, because people understood just how complicated things had gotten, and knew better than to waste time with pointless harassment calls.
But now, right after he’d told everyone to leave the Dungeon or risk dying inside at any moment, the phone started ringing again.
He stared at the blood-red eyeball, which was live-streaming the moment he answered.
Watching that, he couldn’t help but laugh a little, because the call felt like some kind of online hit job, delivery service for cursing.
He couldn’t stop a voice from popping into his head, "Your curse delivery has arrived."
Though people couldn’t comment directly in this live-stream, it didn’t stop them from blowing up the remaining corners of the web, spreading the explosive news.
"Hello?"
He’d barely picked up when a roar blasted through the phone.
"Seriously, you really think you’re somebody now? Making people leave? If we don’t, anyone eyeing your spot just dies?"
"Fuck, who the hell do you think you are, you think we like hanging in your Dungeon?"
"Is it because you’re not the real Lord, so you have to kill people to keep your spot? You wanna protect your job that much? Think you’re the Emperor now?"
The caller showed zero restraint, unloading all their anger at once.
He’d been sick of staying in this Dungeon for ages; he’d only stuck around because it felt wrong to leave—someone had taken him in, plus there was no guarantee he’d find a spot in another Dungeon.
So, even if they hated it, most people stayed.
Someone smelled the blood in the air, so a few went to investigate.
Once it was clear Flying Eagle had killed someone, everyone quietly shut up and looked away.
His title as Lord was basically a joke—everybody knew it.
No checkpoints, nowhere was really safe here.
A house without a deed is basically an open-air, doorless toilet.
Anyone can walk in, anyone can leave whenever.
This place was nothing more than a shelter from the Dark Forest—not a dream home by any means.
No one blamed him for killing people.
Those guys really were scheming, had said out loud they wanted control of this Dungeon, hoping someone would team up, kill Flying Eagle, and seize ownership.
When people heard about that, they kept quiet.
To them, who the Lord was didn’t matter at all.
Hell, a swap might even benefit them.
Because whenever the Lord changed, there’d be new checkpoints.
Call it a checkpoint reset.
Now, everyone was confused—this guy was so scared of losing his spot, is he really afraid of everyone?
"Yeah, great speech. So do me a favor and leave." Flying Eagle squinted, lips curling up.
"Not just you. Anyone under Tier Five, I want everyone out."
"Food and space are limited. I want to spread what’s left among the strong."
Flying Eagle kept talking.
He’d done the math—people under Tier Five made up over half his Dungeon’s population.
If he kicked them out, and then picked out a few who’d slogged ages to reach the lower tiers and booted them too, he might just hit Jiang Che’s limit: residents under a quarter of the Dungeon’s total area.
As soon as he said it, everyone watching froze, mid-movement.
The calculations were right, under Tier Five made up more than half.
"Are you insane!" This place was packed, and the person making the Mayor’s Hotline call was in the middle of the crowd.
He wasn’t just Tier Five—he was Tier Seven. Otherwise he wouldn’t dare yell at Flying Eagle like this.
Tier Seven’s not high, but not low either.
What humanity needs now are Survivors who’ve leveled up. No one would kill another lightly.
He was confident—even if he left Flying Eagle’s Dungeon, he’d find a place in some other Dungeon.
That’s the only reason he dared scream.
Mainly, he was making this call in front of everyone.
He refused to believe Flying Eagle would do anything extreme with so many witnesses.
But this time, Flying Eagle was demanding everyone leave, right in front of everyone.
Around him, countless eyes spun to look at him, with the floating eyeballs overhead. The guy on the phone just felt a chill crawling down his spine.
"Don’t joke around. If you kick out so many people, how the hell are they supposed to survive?"
"As for your damn Dungeon, I never wanted to stay anyway!" He spat out and slammed the phone down.
He didn’t want to talk to Flying Eagle anymore.
This man was really kicking out everyone, only leaving those Tier Five and above.
The only excuse—the food wasn’t enough.
The food issue? Everyone had thought about it.
Thing is, all the food in the city had been siphoned from countless others nearby.
The supplies alone were enough to keep the whole city alive for years.
Within those few years, people could figure out ways to find food or grow new crops.
Food was never the real challenge for human survival.
Flying Eagle looked at the disconnected phone, glanced at the camera and let out a sigh.
That guy cursed him, but he wasn’t mad.
It felt wrong to kick out this many people, too.
But not kicking them out wasn’t an option—he couldn’t have everyone die with the Dungeon.
Somebody calling and tearing into him—no matter how nasty—almost made him feel a little better.
"The Mayor’s Hotline stays open. Anyone’s welcome to call."
"Earlier, I killed those people because they truly coveted my Dungeon. It was a matter of survival, so I had to do it."
"But if you call just to curse at me, go ahead. I won’t get angry or kill you over that." Flying Eagle smiled and held up the phone.
The phone stayed silent. After a long hush, Flying Eagle let out another sigh.
"Even if he didn’t call, I was still thinking about how the hell to tell everyone they need to leave."
"Before the Dark Forest creeps in, anyone under Tier Five should get out."
"If nothing happens, I’ll clear you out in three days."
"It’s not just for myself, it’s for everyone."