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“Ahhhh!!”
Yan Xiaofang’s scream rang in his mind. Mu Xing’s consciousness returned from “space” to his body, and he felt the unbearable pain of being lynched, but the pain was lessening.
His mother’s deadly hug was going slack.
The slick yet cutting tentacles detached from his body, retracting into her arms, which turned back into a regular woman’s arms in an instant. Yan Xiaofang bled from all orifices, the blood mixing with her hot tears, and her face distorted with despair, frustration, and confusion.
Mu Xing would never forget the face.
Two seconds later, Yan Xiaofang collapsed with a dull thud, dead at Mu Xing’s feet.
Clothes tattered and covered in blood, Mu Xing gasped for breaths, trembling in place.
“Dead yet, kid? If...
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