Filth

Luo Di looked at "Dormo," especially at the cluster of eyeballs packed inside the bizarre crack at the back of his head.

He immediately recalled that Dormo had looked the same when they had crawled through the tunnel earlier.

It was only that, under the torchlight, the crack in his head had immediately stitched itself shut. Considering that the noise in the darkness could induce mutations, Luo Di had naturally not been overly suspicious, though he had remained wary.

It was precisely this vigilance, combined with the instinct for danger he had honed along the way, that kept Luo Di from stepping inside at the critical moment.

Moreover,

the organ patterns carved into this stone chamber were closely related to the sexes. Desire had already seeped into the place with great intensity, so caution was only natural.

"What are you?" Luo Di threw the question at those eyes.

"...I am eyes. I am a mark. I am a symbol. An outsider like you actually wished to peer into this Dungeon through another's memories? Then stay here.

That old man from the past thought he had escaped the Dungeon, never realizing That Lord had deliberately let him go and marked him.

Memories concerning the depths of the Dungeon can never be leaked. What you saw was merely a surface appearance I wished to show you.

I will unite with you in love, and your mind will be imprisoned forever. Even if your flesh remains in the outside world, it will be nothing more than a Walking Dead."

Luo Di heard an inexplicable arrogance in the other party's voice and calmly asked,

"So Old Master Jiang's diary and everything I experienced in this dream were fake? The true deepest part of the Dungeon doesn't look like this."

The eyeballs continued speaking through