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"Huff... Huff..." Zheng Yichen clutched his forehead. His right eye had returned to normal, but his left remained pitch-black. He had already dispelled the Black Light he had cast on himself and quenched the Flames of Rage that had ignited his fury, but his mental state couldn't recover in a short time.
At this moment, he was like a powder keg, ready to explode at the slightest provocation. He reached for his right ear and felt something hanging there, the same thing that brought him a sense of coolness during his frenzy.
—The white ball he had always used as a car decoration.
"Good job, little thing." Looking at the white ball in his hand, which was like a sticky rice cake, Zheng Yichen squeezed it as if it were a stress toy, then kicked it into his pocket. He reached into the storage compartment of the motorcycle and took out some blessing artifacts, as well as those mental-type medicines.
