Yesterday, for some reason, the numbers under his influence suddenly began to fluctuate.
At first, Cheng Yuan thought it was just a phase and that it would pass over, just as it usually did.
But this time, it wasn't a phase.
It marked the beginning of its fall.
From then onwards, it plummeted.
Like a person falling from a mountain with no way to go back up.
He wasn't used to this feeling that constantly haunted him.
And even now, Cheng Yuan's heart tightened in pain whenever he thought of how many he had lost.
He placed his hands over his heart, gripping it, but it did little to soothe the pain that came from within.
It began to hurt even more—not just his heart, but his head.
He could feel a migraine coming on as he thought of his supporters, who had started acting up.
"Damn it! Why can't you at least wait until after the elections?"
