The sulfurous reek of the burning warehouse on Millstone Lane choked Ye Chen’s throat as his forehead pressed into the ash. Black Lotus venom coursed through his blood vessels, turning his veins into jagged lines of liquid fire that actively consumed his spiritual channels.
Every breath was a violent battle against suffocation, but the deafening silence inside his skull was far more terrifying than the physical decay.
For months, the neutral chime of the system had served as his steadfast guide, pulling him out of the stable filth, mending his broken ribs, and calculating his path to survival with detached efficiency. Now, that translucent blue shield had shattered into scattered fragments of light, leaving him defenseless on the scorched cobblestones while his liquid core sputtered and
