The man was still screaming.
The parts Tan Xiao had torn apart were splitting at the seams, with blood gushing out.
He was propped up on his hands, breathing heavily; the lumps of flesh that resembled legs rose and fell with his breath, trembling as if they were part of the body.
Shen Mo glanced at Bai Youwei, thinking about her strong insistence on applying mud to Tan Xiao's injuries earlier, and understood.
"So... In this labyrinth, we can't get injured, otherwise we become part of the labyrinth?"
"Most likely so." Bai Youwei coldly observed the man gasping for breath on the ground, "Otherwise, it's impossible to explain why he was not afraid of the snake, and why, when we first entered the restaurant, he didn't actively call for help. If he hadn't coughed, we wouldn't have noticed someone in the kitchen."
When someone is in absolute despair, isn't it natural to call outloud when they hear another human voice?
Why was he hiding instead?
