Wuya staggered along the streets of the Manhattan Instance Dungeon.
The battle with Chen Xiaolian had destroyed the World Trade Center Twin Towers. Scattered steel bars and concrete had fallen from the sky, turning the surrounding streets into a field of ruins.
Vehicles parked on the street were almost all smashed, and it was hard to find one that was intact. Moreover, with broken concrete everywhere on the road, even if a vehicle could be found, it was impossible to drive out of the area.
Flesh was still slowly growing from the wounds on Wuya's body, and the injuries seemed slightly better than before, not as terrifying, but his steps were still slow and weak. From time to time, he had to reach out to stabilize himself against a piece of concrete to prevent himself from falling and to keep moving forward.
"Chen Xiaolian... Chen Xiaolian..."
Wuya's eyes were filled with resentment, and he kept grinding his teeth as he repeated this name.
