Yang Xiu suddenly lost his voice, only to discover that the man and woman seated before him were not human, but machines. His study of psychology was meant for conversations with humans, not with machines.
Laughing, his cold handsome face broke into a laugh, a loud one that cast an ominous, bone-chilling sense of the apocalypse over everyone's head.
"You—" he paused, his eyes sharp as knives as he gazed at him, "what are you laughing at?"
