I'm Really Going to Become an Immortal Chapter 308 - 222 Moon Reading

Chen Yun stood in front of the Dream Forest he had crafted with his own hands, his heart surging with excitent and awe.

In this Dream Forest, ticulously carved out by Chen Yun’s spiritual power, every detail revealed a degree of finesse and reality beyond imagination.

Sunlight gently filtered through the gaps in the treetops, forming columns of light, and fine dust floated in the air, dancing in the rays as if ti’s sprites had frozen.

The forest floor was covered with a thick layer of fallen leaves, and stepping on them, the soft touch seed to absorb all weariness and worry.

So higher authority, it seed, was revealing itself before him at this mont, a power akin to that of a creator deity.

He realized that he was not rely an onlooker but also a creator, a deity capable of weaving reality into the dreams of others.

This ability made him feel as though he held the key to another dinsion, a kingdom woven from heart and fantasy.

To call himself the Dream Master was no exaggeration.

His spiritual power far surpassed anyone’s, and even in this dreamscape composed of spiritual power, he was a god.

As he pondered this, the dreaming prisoner suddenly cast his gaze over.

Chen Yun, with his formidable spiritual power, freely manipulated the dreamscape to conceal his form.

And seeing a sunlit forest appear in the middle of a desolate dreamscape under a blood moon.

The prisoner was obviously befuddled for a mont.

But in the dream, he seed to care little.

Casual in the strange logic of the dreamscape, the prisoner was unfazed by the abrupt change in the environnt.

The desolation under the blood moon and the sunny forest coexisted, an illogical sight that seed not to warrant undue attention in the realm of dreams.

The prisoner stepped forward almost carelessly into the suddenly arisen forest, as naturally as one might enter an ordinary pub.

Chen Yun smiled slightly from the shadows, his expectation of the prisoner’s acceptance of dream logic confird.

Using this, he began to more boldly adjust the details of the dreamscape, such as causing exotic flowers and herbs to blossom quietly along the prisoner’s path, emitting a comforting fragrance, hoping to nudge the prisoner’s subconscious in a more positive direction.

The prisoner in the dreamscape, amidst this ever-evolving environnt, beca increasingly relaxed, even starting to joyfully roll in the soft leaves, his face blooming with a childlike smile that had long been absent.

This scene brought a slight smile to Chen Yun, the Dream Master.

He beca even more certain of his divine status in the dreamscape, thanks to his powerful spiritual strength.

Pondering this.

Chen Yun turned his gaze to the prisoner, the experintal subject.

After nearly completing the dream experints, the next step would be to experint on the subject himself.

As a drear, his existential form caught Chen Yun’s attention.

At first glance.

He seed like a Spiritual Body like Chen Yun, but not only was this spiritual strength ager, the haziness and blur enshrouding it made the Spiritual Body’s consciousness seem much dimr than in reality.

The consciousness in the dreamscape was clearly weakened.

Pondering this, Chen Yun, with his overwhelming spiritual power and omnipotence within the dreamscape, began experinting on the drear’s very consciousness.

The next instant, everything around dissolved into nothingness.

In the process, Chen Yun shattered the vagueness of the dreaming prisoner’s consciousness, bringing about an unusual alertness within the dreamscape.

The next mont.

The surroundings imdiately transford into the prisoner’s cell where he took his midday rest, with Chen Yun’s formidable spiritual power providing an extrely realistic simulation.

This stunned the rapist.

Presumably, he thought he had awoken.

The prisoner looked around, his gaze traveling back and forth inside the cramped cell, finally settling on the iron window that was unexpectedly open.

Dusk was setting in outside the window, the lazy afternoon sun gradually giving way to the gentle evening light, a slanting remnant of the sun casting an unreal warmth on the iron bars.

He was baffled, his eyes a mix of confusion and shock, almost questioning the illogical silence—why had the long midday break passed without a cell check, with no sign of the usually strict guards?

Watching the open cell door, the prisoner’s breath turned rapid and heavy, his heartbeat the only sound in his ears. The extre quiet of the surroundings was like a vacuum, with air itself seeming to freeze.

He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of suspicion and contemplation in his eyes, weighing whether this sudden freedom was a trap or an opportunity.

Suddenly, he seed to make a decision.

A near-hysterical shout burst from his throat, echoing through the empty corridors without eliciting any response, only the growing echoes asserting his loneliness.

This unresponded solitude turned his doubts into conviction, an indescribable urge driving him to take action.

Regardless, he would run out first!

Finally, he hesitated no longer and resolutely strode over the threshold of the cell into the unknown.

The surroundings were vast and desolate, lacking the familiar noise and sighs of other prisoners, the footsteps and sharp rebukes of guards on patrol—everything was eerily quiet, as if the entire prison had been forgotten by ti.

Along the way, every door was silently ajar, as if luring him deeper into this forsaken labyrinth.