Yes! He's the god of acting

The Gray Convergence

"A Gray Convergence?"

The term certainly existed in William's memory; the original owner must have encountered it somewhere.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten about the Gray World already," Doctor David stood up, pouring the blood from the teacup down the drain. He continued, "Before the Great Cataclysm, there was a hypothesis that countless parallel universes existed. These realms were formed from the earliest universe, like rays of light spreading from a lit candle, extending infinitely in all possibilities, yet never intersecting."

"But after the Red Meteor streaked across the sky, everything changed."

"Every dimension was stirred into a ripple. An unknown and eerie Gray World began to overlap with our reality."

Doctor David finished washing the teacup, but instead of discarding the water, he placed it on the table. Because he'd used some force, the water within rippled. Doctor David tore off a piece of paper and held it above the agitated water. The undulating liquid began to soak into the paper, starting as uneven small damp spots and gradually permeating the entire surface.

"Initially, only small portions overlapped, but as time passed, more and more areas converged. Matter and beings from that world began to appear in ours. In fact, most of what was once human habitat has now been claimed by that world. Only nine 'Domains' remain, sheltering humanity, preserving the last embers of our civilization."

"Because the sky in that world is gray, we call it the 'Gray World'."

"When the Gray World converges with reality, it generates a series of bizarre, incomprehensible events. Sometimes, even monsters from the Gray World descend, which we call 'Calamities'."

"Generally, among survivors who encounter a Gray Convergence or are attacked by a Calamity, eighty percent develop mental instability, and most of these conditions are permanent..."

"I suspect your current condition is related to the 'Gray World'."

"Think carefully: have you encountered a Gray Convergence and been caught in it?"

Facing Doctor David's questions, William desperately tried to search the original owner's memories, but found nothing. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't recall any other memories from last night.

"I don't know," he said bitterly.

Doctor David pondered for a moment, then took a sheet of paper from a drawer and quickly began writing.

"Your situation is no longer a simple mental illness... I'm just an ordinary person; I can't cure you."

"However, I know someone. When it comes to treating the after-effects of Gray World contamination, he might be able to help. After all, he is a true [Healer]."

At this, a faint light sparkled in William's eyes. "Where can I find him?"

"He lives in Aurora City, but he usually prefers to travel, offering free medical aid. I've heard he goes wherever there are difficult cases – that's their path to godhood..."

"Anyway, give this letter to the Enforcers at the gates of Aurora City. Leave your name and address, and they will pass it on for you."

"Within three days, that [Healer] will come to find you."

"Thank you!"

William took the envelope, genuinely grateful. In truth, when he saw the salt melting on the road, William had already felt something was off. What was happening to him seemed beyond a mere illness. He had come to this small clinic partly because he was already halfway there, and partly because he truly didn't know anywhere else that might help him. From Doctor David's words, this [Healer] seemed special, and he even mentioned a path to godhood...

Could it be that this world also had a unique human cultivation system? Otherwise, according to Doctor David, all of humanity should have perished during the so-called Great Cataclysm and the Gray Convergences. William even suspected that this world's distorted scientific level might also be linked to the Cataclysm.

"You're welcome. Give my regards to your brother," Doctor David smiled faintly.

"He's still hospitalized in Sector Two... I'll pass on your message next time I visit him."

William rose, bid Doctor David farewell, and pushed open the door to leave.

As his figure gradually disappeared beneath the aurora-streaked sky, Doctor David's eyes narrowed slightly.

"A performer, eh..."

The Performer's Predicament

"The first time I saw the screen in my dream, the Audience Expectation was 29%."

"When I tried to escape, it jumped to 30%."

"On the way here, it dropped back to 27%..."

"Just now, when Doctor David was pranked, it rose to 29%."

"Assuming the 'audience' is really in my mind, and these numbers aren't hallucinations, what exactly influences the rise and fall of this expectation?"

The cold wind whistled. William, wrapped in his thick cotton coat, walked towards home, lost in thought.

A stage, an audience, expectation... Every increase in expectation seemed to coincide with an event. Could these events be considered "plots" on a stage? The more interesting the events happening around him, the greater the "plot's" appeal to the audience, thus raising the expectation?

The screen said that if the audience expectation drops below 20%, the performer's safety wouldn't be guaranteed...

What specific danger that entailed, William didn't know, but given that the "audience" could somewhat interfere with reality, he might end up as a tool for their amusement, pranked to death by their bizarre magic!

William felt his line of reasoning was sound, but to prove it, he needed to take action.

"Perhaps I should try to actively design 'plots'," William murmured to himself.

"William, have you had breakfast yet?"

William turned to see a man with a towel wrapped around his head, fanning a stove at a street-side breakfast stall, calling out to him warmly.

The moment he saw him, an idea suddenly sparked in William's mind.

"Not yet, Oliver," William's lips curved into a slight smile as he casually walked towards the stall.

"Come, come, let me get you some soy milk and fried dough sticks. Heavy rain last night, lots of dampness; you need a warm breakfast to stay healthy." Oliver served up a steaming bowl of soy milk.

"Thanks, Oliver."

William rummaged in his pocket, pulled out three copper coins, and offered them to Oliver, but the latter pushed them back.

"Uncle's treating you to breakfast; you think I'd let you pay?"

"Come on, Oliver. Even if we've been neighbors for over a decade, we should still keep things straight."

"You kid, Uncle doesn't want your money. Just help Jones with his studies when you have time, and I'll bring you breakfast every day," Oliver grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth.

"He already graduated, doesn't he? Still needs tutoring?"

"With his scores, he can't even get a job placement. I'm thinking of making him repeat a year. Can't have him just doing odd jobs every day, can I?"

"Oh..."

"William's the good one, smart and filial. If only Jones could pass the Enforcer exam like you someday, I'd wake up laughing in my dreams."

Oliver sighed deeply. "Too bad that boy just isn't trying."

William's hand, holding his chopsticks, paused slightly. After a moment of hesitation, he finally spoke:

"Oliver... do you know why Jones's grades are so bad?"

"Huh? Why?"

William was about to say something, but then fell silent for a long time before shaking his head. "Never mind, Oliver. Pretend I didn't mention it... I promised him I'd keep it a secret."

"Don't do that!"

Oliver's heart pounded. He quickly added a braised egg to William's bowl, scratching his head anxiously. "William, I know you're a good friend to Jones, but some things... I, as his father, need to know, right? I raised Jones by myself, working hard from dawn till dusk to put him through school, all so he could have a better life later on..."

"If you know anything, you have to tell me! We're all just trying to help him..."

Seeing Oliver's desperate plea, William was slightly moved. He deliberated for a moment, then, as if making up his mind, he said, "You're right, Oliver. As a friend, I can't bear to watch Jones fall any further..."

"Fall? Fall further? What exactly is wrong with him?"

"He's in a relationship."

"Huh?" Oliver blinked in surprise. "That kid has that kind of charm?"

William took a bite of his fried dough stick without changing his expression, then calmly uttered three words:

"With a man."