Memory playback ceased, and Chen Yang once again fell into an immeasurable darkness until one moment, he abruptly opened his eyes, and the cold fluorescent light of the basement once more filled his vision.
Then he climbed up from the floor, plonking down onto a chair, he closed his eyes, his brows furrowed in thought.
An outsider would not have been able to discern from his face what the closed-eyed Chen Yang was pondering. It was maybe ten minutes, perhaps half an hour, before he opened his eyes again.
"Is this a new kind of 'frame'?"
Not an expressionless face, but one filled with absolute rationality and coldness now dominated Chen Yang's features.
"How do you feel?"
The voice of Right Hand drifted in.
"If you're talking about feelings… well…"
Chen Yang glanced at his palm, "I don't feel anything."
"Nothing at all?"
