Chapter 3: The Mysterious Tombstone

When Raymond "opened his eyes" again, he felt that his perspective was strange—specifically, he seemed to be higher up than usual. Was he...floating?

"A soul?! So souls really do exist..."

The existence of souls had always been a hotly debated topic in human society. Raymond remembered reading about a theory that in 1907, Dr. Duncan MacDougall from Massachusetts conducted an experiment and found that a person's body weight decreased by about three-quarters of an ounce, roughly 21 grams, at the moment of death. Unable to find a suitable explanation, he concluded that humans have souls, and these souls have weight—21 grams.

However, critics pointed out that his experiment was flawed and lacked credibility. Others suggested that the weight loss might be due to the cessation of breathing and blood circulation, causing a rapid rise in body temperature, which in turn could speed up the evaporation of bodily fluids, leading to a loss in weight. Some believed that souls, if they existed, were non-material and couldn't have mass.

Such debates were endless. Some firmly believed in the existence of souls, while others thought the concept of a soul was merely a symbolic notion without any real existence.

If humanity hadn't gone extinct, Raymond thought he could tell them souls do exist because he was one now.

"But, I'm dead. I can't talk to people. Maybe I could try sending a dream message? Oh, right, all humans are dead. The last one is right beneath me..."

Underneath him was his own corpse.

Bloody and mangled, his body was a gruesome sight—a graphic scene straight out of a horror movie.

"That's a pretty nasty way to go," Raymond concluded. Jumping from the tallest building in the city was bound to result in a brutal death. After critiquing his own death, Raymond looked around, wondering what would happen next. Would mythical beings like Grim Reapers show up to take him to the afterlife? Or would he slowly fade away?

However, a glance around startled him.

A massive tombstone floated behind him—mysterious, grand, and solemn. The tombstone was clearly not a real object, lacking any shadow. It was only when Raymond turned around that he finally noticed it.

"What the heck?!"

Becoming a soul didn't surprise him, but the appearance of the huge tombstone was completely unexpected.

It seemed to be made of white mist, ethereal and unreal, yet it exuded a sense of ancient power, as if it had traversed the river of time, overwhelmingly grand. A long string of numbers appeared on it—8012232593.

"8012232593? What? The Grim Reaper's phone number? Do I have to call to get picked up by Death? And would that cost me?! Or...does it mean 8,012,232,593? Huh?!!" Raymond was stunned as a thought flashed through his mind. "No way...could it be..."

Suddenly, the numbers on the massive tombstone flickered and changed from 8012232593 to 8012232592. Simultaneously, Raymond's mangled body on the ground instantly restored to its original state, and his soul began to uncontrollably drift back into his body.

Oh, crap! Dammit!!!

Raymond opened his eyes and touched his now uninjured body, feeling utterly helpless.

I can't even die if I want to?!

Looking back, the enormous ethereal tombstone had already vanished without a trace.

8,012,232,593???

This huge number immediately made Raymond think of the world's population. He recalled reading a few years ago that, according to the U.S. Census Bureau, the world population had surpassed 7.7 billion.

8,012,232,593 was clearly larger than 7.7 billion, but if it included unregistered people and accounted for population growth from the time of the survey to the apocalypse, it made sense. Furthermore, the number had changed just now, decreasing by one.

The conclusion was obvious.

"Did all the lives in the world get stacked onto mine?!" Raymond suddenly felt a sense of absurdity. With 8 billion lives, even if he killed himself a hundred times a day, it would take 80 million days, which translates to over 200,000 years!

200,000 years!!

He would have been dead long before that.

Wait! Damn it, I'll just keep coming back to life!

If each life counted for 50 years, then with 8 billion lives...

For Raymond, death was no longer an endpoint. Or rather, his life had no foreseeable end anymore.

From another perspective, he had essentially achieved immortality—a dream humanity had harbored since ancient times. Yet, this immortality seemed more like a curse now.

The curse of living alone.

Because, if Raymond had harbored any hope that there might be other survivors somewhere in the world, that hope vanished with the appearance of the massive ethereal tombstone and the realization that he held 8 billion lives.

On this vast planet, there were no other survivors. Only him and an endless stretch of time.

"The sun is set to die in 5 billion years, theoretically, I could outlive it. But then how would I survive? Would I suffer through the ice age repeatedly?" Raymond stood up, dusted himself off, and, thinking about it, couldn't help but laugh.

These problems were too far off.