Underground base, main control room.
Yan Lang's vision went black, and Luo Yan's figure vanished. He thought the other man had used some kind of sorcery.
Suddenly, he felt his heart tighten.
His hands and feet began trembling lightly, completely beyond his control.
Fear!
This ancient human emotion was something he had not experienced in a very long time.
Especially after becoming the Demon Fetus, he had only ever brought fear to others. When had he ever been afraid himself?
"What's going on?"
Just as he was wondering, Yan Lang suddenly heard familiar footsteps—the slap of slippers against the floor.
But there was no one wearing slippers in the main control room. Where could that sound be coming from?
"Yan Lang!"
A voice rang out from the darkness.
It was a man's voice, loud and coarse, filled with fury.
Hearing that voice, Yan Lang trembled involuntarily.
"Impossible..."
"He can't be here. He's already dead."
Yan Lang panicked. A blurry figure flashed through his mind.
It was his father—a gambler and an alcoholic.
When he was young,
Whenever his father lost a bet, he would get drunk. And whenever he got drunk, he would take out his anger on Yan Lang.
So now, the moment he heard that voice, even though he had long since grown up, even though he had become the Demon Fetus,
Yan Lang still found it difficult to suppress his fear.
It had already been branded into his soul and turned into instinct.
"Yan Lang, get out here right now. Don't make me come find you."
"You little bastard, if I find you, you're going to regret it."
Smack!
In the darkness, it seemed that his "father" was swinging a whip.
But Yan Lang knew it wasn't a whip. It was his father's belt—and Yan Lang's "instrument