Qin Shimoon looked at the ordinary arrangement in the room before her eyes, yet within her heart surged speechlessness; she had actually come back to life, truly unexpected.
She was very familiar with the performance and power of firearms, and with the injuries she sustained before, her death had been almost certain. It was unimaginable that she had been healed like this—the power of Spell was indeed magical.
In her heart, she was uncertain whether to feel lucky or regretful. Perhaps dying outright wouldn't have been too bad, but now that she was alive again, she should cherish life even more, shouldn't she?
The images she had just witnessed still lingered in her mind, now seeming like a bizarre, distant dream, so unreal as if it had never happened, merely a figment of her desperation.
The images had become blurry, much like dreams she had in the past, where she couldn't recall the specifics, only a vague memory of something important in them.
