Who is he? Is it Chang Shuo...or me?
Qian Cangyi stood in place unmoving, his limbs were already free from the iron chains, and it seemed as if the mask couldn't see him. It flew away from its previous position, continuing its own work.
"So, what...what should I do next?" Qian Cangyi looked at his own palm.
The blaring horn began to fade, but between heaven and earth, tremors started.
Crack!
After this crisp sound, the dark red sky was torn apart, dividing into two halves.
The torn part was an impenetrable darkness void of any light. Around this crevice, even the rays of light started to bend or seemed to be desperately fleeing from the crack.
A paper airplane flew out from the crevice. The size of the airplane was the same as that of an A4 paper folding.
