He walked down a long street. The street was not long, only about 60 meters long. The buildings on both sides of the street were destroyed, and no one was alive.
The ground felt muddy, though he could not tell what was actually on the ground.
On the muddy street, a dead soul that was about 2.5 meters tall was patrolling silently with a horse-chopping saber in hand.
The soul itself was already riddled with holes, and one could see its spine through its chest.
"Is this a fragment of the soul's memory? Or does it only show this part of its life?"
Yuchi had used an extreme method.
He had destroyed his own body and faked his death.
He had restored only a tiny portion of his body, about the size of a speck of dust.
The dead soul was not particularly strong, so it could not sense that Yuchi was still alive.
If Yuchi wanted to, he could instantly restore his physical body to its complete state.
