He picked up the booklet. This time, Zhou Ze did not feel that it was hot. Instead, he felt a warm and icy sensation, as if he was holding an ancient jade.
There seemed to be a strange connection between him and the book.
Zhou Ze had read some Xianxia novels before, but at this moment, he did not feel like the immortal warrior novel's magical equipment recognized its owner.
The booklet was still the booklet.
He was still him.
However, for some reason, Zhou Ze felt a sense of familiarity toward this thing. It was like a thirty-year-old man holding a photo that he had taken when he was three or five years old.
It was unfamiliar and extremely familiar.
He opened the first page of the booklet, and the majestic image attacked him again. Zhou Ze closed his eyes, and the messy things disappeared.
Last time, he had been passively instilled.
This time, he seemed to be able to control the mouth.
