"How should I describe this feeling?"
Lin Sanjiu had already been oxygen-deprived for three minutes. Her cheeks were turning very red and the veins on her forehead were starting to pop. Just as she hit her steering wheel and changed the direction of her kart, this rather irrelevant thought surfaced in her mind.
If she really had to describe her current feeling, she felt like she was a paraplegic who had been cured after many years. Or, perhaps, a very dusty porcelain vase which had been wiped clean.
—
"There are too many different abilities in the apocalyptic world. If you're over-reliant on your evolved abilities and Special Items, what will you do if you meet an enemy that is your natural bane… Do you know how many powerful posthumans I have killed?" Hei Zeji's voice seemed to be just beside Lin Sanjiu's ears. She could even hear the sort of cold laughter between his sentences. "Your own body is the true source of your strength."
