In the distance, black fire spread across the cracked earth, while a weakening force field eroded every shred of vitality from the flesh. Full skin gradually shriveled and withered, vision blurred into a haze, and the only thing visible was a gigantic black shadow roaring madly.
Purple fire brimming with eerie power shook loose from the black shadow.
One spark fell before his eyes. In an instant, scorching heat swept through his entire body—
Angel abruptly opened his eyes.
The instant his lids lifted, he saw a greasy, fat face, along with the surprise and panic written across it.
Before Angel could examine the meaning behind that expression, a searing heat swept over his body. He suddenly rolled over, tumbling off the metal operating table and knocking a host of experimental tools onto the floor.
Only then did Angel realize that he had been lying on an operating table. Blazing flames had burned beneath it, though they were now quietly fading away. The source of their extinction was Bruffin's finger.
Angel rose to his feet and watched Bruffin warily.
He had been lying on an operating table, with flames beneath it and all manner of experimental tools he had knocked over—every detail pointed to something.
Bruffin's eyes kept shifting about as he hummed a little tune, wearing an air of complete unconcern. Yet he did not dare meet Angel's gaze.
"What were you trying to do?" Angel looked coldly at Bruffin.
Only then did Bruffin look Angel in the eye. He shrugged somewhat awkwardly. "I didn't do anything."
"Then why was I here, hmm? On an operating table?"
"I saw you'd fallen asleep, so I helped you find somewhere you could stretch out your legs. Isn't an operating table more spacious?" Bruffin coughed twice and replied stiffly.
Angel's gaze fell