Ethan Smith lay in the taxi, seemingly having not a single ounce of strength in his body.
Just now, he had used all his strength to climb into the taxi.
"It's a pity I didn't kill him." Ethan's eyes were filled with a cold glint.
For those who wanted to harm him, Ethan would have no mercy, otherwise they might come back at any time.
"I never expected that the consumption of the Saintly Body Skill would be so huge. I must use it as little as possible in the future," Ethan thought to himself.
The car finally arrived at the hotel.
After such a long journey, Ethan's strength still did not recover.
Out of helplessness, Ethan asked the taxi driver to carry him to the bed.
Ethan lying on the bed couldn't help feeling worried.
"I don't know if I can recover by tomorrow." Ethan spoke gloomily.
The Traditional Medicine Conference would take place tomorrow. If his body could not recover by then, it would indeed be troublesome.
On the other side.
