The Purest Infant, This Was Not Possession

More often than not, Dog Qin Yang felt that Killer Qin Yang took things too far. It was all too easy to offend people for no reason that way, and it truly was not good. If things went wrong, he could end up with the whole world as his enemy.

But nothing could be said in absolute terms. Killer Qin Yang's style of leaving neither chickens nor dogs alive, ensuring that not even a living chick could be found, became an advantage the instant it was applied elsewhere.

For example, for what they had to do now, Dog Qin Yang knew he absolutely could not do it as well as Killer Qin Yang.

If he said they would wash it inch by inch twice over, then not a single nook or cranny would be missed.

Under the radiance of the white lantern, the little child's Heart Door condensed within the light. His Heart Door had no shape resembling a door at all, only a shapeless ball of white light hanging there.

For an infant not yet a year old, he did not even have a concept of what a "door" was.

To Qin Yang, that shifting ball of light was completely defenseless.

Killer Qin Yang carried the Plastic Black Sword, suppressed his power to the limit, and took one step into the ball of light.

The world inside the Heart Door was bright, filled with the purest radiance. In that white world, there were only a scant few things.

A huge rocking-horse toy swayed back and forth, drifting through the air like a roly-poly. An enormous wind chime swung, producing crisp sounds.

Far away stood an abstract object like a steamed bun, transformed into a great mountain. A crooked, winding thing that looked like a river flowed with honey.

But