"Blech—"
Inside Yang An's residence in the Fate Crane Sect, the Corpse Slave Fu Gui held a chamber pot and accurately caught the sour water Yang An vomited.
Second Senior Brother Fu Ming had indeed been right. Those things were all immensely nourishing treasures, and the moment they entered Yang An's stomach, they had already been digested.
So all he could throw up was sour water, leaving him utterly miserable.
The more normal-looking things were fine. Though their names were all strange and bizarre, he had no psychological burden eating them; he could simply treat them as ordinary food.
But those grotesque living creatures and chunks of flesh were different. They dealt an incomparably huge blow to Yang An's psyche, yet he could only grit his teeth and force them down.
After eating them, a thick, fishy stench lingered in his mouth and nose, impossible to dispel. That was the main reason he felt so nauseated and vomited.
Not to mention that, though these things were all great tonics, eating them meant bearing all manner of strange and bizarre costs.
Fortunately, Yang An had already used Purification before they entered his mouth. Otherwise, he would likely have felt even worse now.
Miserable as he was, swallowing so many things had still benefited Yang An enormously.
The moment he finished eating, he fled in a cloud of dust and raced back to his residence without stopping. In less than the time it took to burn an incense stick, Yang An felt his entire body blazing hot, as though he had been thrown into a furnace.
His body seemed to be undergoing some marvelous transformation.
At the same time, his Mana was autonomously condensing at high speed, fiercer than even taking medicine.
Yang An quickly ordered Fu Gui to guard the gate,