Liao Feng each time thought he was about to catch the two of them, but they always managed to smoothly escape the magic claw. He was very angry at heart, "If you've got the guts, then don't run! Big men only know how to run away, what the hell are you two?"
So he cursed while desperately chasing them.
However, Zhuo Shiyue didn't care and kept his pace sometimes fast, sometimes slow; every time Liao Feng was about to catch up, he'd speed up a bit, and when he fell behind, slow down again—it seemed like he was just playing with his rhythm.
More than an hour passed, and everyone was nearly out of strength.
"Oh damn, that guy behind us is hell-bent on chasing us. Damn it, I'm genuinely out of energy now, Zhekui, you might as well get down and run for yourself!"
Drenched in sweat, Zhuo Shiyue couldn't take it anymore, flung Zhekui to the ground, and gasped for air.
"My goodness, aren't you the pit? You really have the heart to leave me behind?!"
