"Grab the chain!"
His right hand struck the ground forcefully, blood flying everywhere, the Flesh Immortal had never been as excited as he was now, with every beat of Gao Ming's heart sounding like an exploding drum within his chest.
The Gao Ming of the past and the present made the same movements, the connection between flesh and blood spanning past and present.
"Ah!"
Eight ghostly arms stretched out from Gao Ming's back; his shadow on the floor tiles was also torn apart by some force, as the Flesh Ghost God danced wildly, watched by monsters, amid countless black-and-white patient portraits, the past Gao Ming crawled out from behind Gao Ming of the present!
Situ An's worship of the Flesh Immortal was doomed to fail, for from the very beginning, the Flesh Immortal had chosen Gao Ming in a time even further in the past, at the moment that had yet to arrive in the future.
No one has ever saved you; it's your repeated deaths and rebirths, constantly saving yourself over and over.
