The room returned to pitch darkness.
Mo Shiche hung his head low, consciousness blurring so much that he even felt as though he were about to die.
Suddenly, a dull pain throbbed in his head.
It was as if a pair of hands were tugging at his nerves, and he clasped his head in his hands, letting out a suppressed and deep growl.
His pitch-black pupils abruptly closed up, and terrifying crimson slowly flooded them, until they turned completely red—
Mo Xiao flung his eyes open.
Gasping for air, he leaned against the wall and slowly stood up, extending a hand to switch on the light.
Mo Xiao looked at his blood-covered reflection in the mirror, frowning in disgust. What the hell happened, he thought, I haven't been out in so long, and the first thing I get is this near-death look?!
He snorted coldly, glanced at the clothes hanging on the rack beside him, reached out, and yanked them on.
Then he pulled the door open and strode out—
...
