The underground passage was shrouded in endless darkness.
A female corpse lay on the ground, her heartbeat ceased, and her blood had cooled.
Dozens of meters away.
A three-meter-tall black woman bent down and held Shen Ye in her arms.
Her long fingers pierced through Shen Ye's chest, protruding from his back, raised high, allowing the blood to flow down from her fingertips.
The woman opened her mouth, extended her long tongue, coiling it seven or eight times around her finger, and licked all the blood clean.
A deep and thick voice, both male and female, spread out amidst the intense sense of ill omen:
"Blood."
"—The blood of the powerless, diluted to the extreme."
Shen Ye did not move, merely listening.
She didn't kill me.
Why?
At this moment, he staked his life and cast aside all concerns, wanting to uncover the reason behind the entire incident.
Maybe at any other time, anyone who knew would curse him as insane.
But Shen Ye just stood there, motionless.
