"Ah? You're really giving it to me?"
Sun Hang picked up the cup of coffee—the cup was exquisite, made of bone china with crackle patterns, its rim inlaid with a ring of gold. The coffee inside was filled to exactly eighty percent, with a small ring of fine foam still clinging to the inner wall.
Sun Hang brought the cup to his nose and sniffed. A rich, burnt aroma entered his nostrils, but mixed within it was a faint trace of blood.
"Drinking this would probably give me diarrhea bad enough to question my life, huh?" Sun Hang got to his feet, muttering as he walked up to "Bing Liu San Si." "How about this? Your stomach seems pretty good, so why don't you drink it for me?"
With that, Sun Hang grabbed "Bing Liu San Si" by the hair and lifted him off the battered, ruined mannequin. Four fungal threads forcibly pried open his mouth, and Sun Hang poured the entire cup of coffee down his throat.
"Bing Liu San Si" struggled desperately, but hundreds of tough fungal threads bound him tightly from head to toe, leaving him no choice but to let the dark brown liquid flow down his throat.
The moment the coffee touched his hollow cavity, it immediately began to boil—the coffee seemed to have turned into a highly corrosive liquid. In the blink of an eye, it burned through his throat and leaked out from his neck.
The force of his struggle against the fungal threads suddenly intensified, and Sun Hang could clearly feel the pain "Bing Liu San Si" was suffering.
Wait? Could anomalous entities feel pain?
The thought had barely crossed Sun Hang's mind when the fungal threads abruptly loosened. "Bing Liu San Si" rapidly melted like wax under heat, turning into a