Gao Ming and the Flesh Ghost God were both very satisfied with Fan Li, as the latter would continuously provide the Flesh Immortal with high-quality willpower energy. The more fiercely a living person struggled in a desperate situation, the happier the God would be.
Of course, the so-called Gods were also just struggling in the face of fate.
"How does he always manage to find these people with such great potential?" Situ An, deep in the Punishment Room, was somewhat envious as he had witnessed the entire process of the Flesh Ghost God treating Fan Li: "Is he fate itself? Gao Ming, fate... I'm thinking here, don't move the chains around."
Situ An's mother was holding the chains, seemingly concerned that the chains engraved with Divine Patterns might rub against his wounds.
"Mama's boy." Xia Yang, holding a paintbrush and loitering nearby, watched Situ An with a smile, his intentions unclear.
The inside of the Punishment Room was becoming busier, and space was becoming scarce.
