Gurgle—
The lake bottom.
Chen Sheng's face remained the same, his gaze probing all around.
With a gentle flick of his legs, he could swim out tens of meters.
His speed far exceeded that of some ordinary fish.
The pressure at the bottom of the lake, and the ice-cold, bone-chilling water.
And that numb sensation that drilled into the bone marrow.
All were blocked outside by the turtle shell pattern on his body.
On the contrary, Shen Ziming on his shoulder seemed to bear less.
Chen Sheng turned his head to look.
The other party's orange spearhead was drooping, and bubbles were constantly emerging from his mouth, floating upwards.
Were it not for Chen Sheng's request for the water spirit to take care of Shen Ziming.
He probably wouldn't last a minute at the bottom of this lake—he'd die on the spot.
This made Chen Sheng more certain,
That he could not see Shen Ziming's attributes, not because the other party was too strong.
Perhaps,
