"What a pity. It was broken."
While traveling, Qin He removed the Cosmic Bag hanging from the corpse and discovered that a hole had long since been torn through its back.
Cosmic Bags were imitation spatial storage artifacts. Better ones could advance to the level of magical treasures, but the only difference was a bit more space, greater sturdiness, or perhaps some other functions.
They could be made into bags or sachets. Their shortcomings were obvious: they could not hold too many things, nor could they hold oversized or excessively heavy objects.
For example, putting an entire small mountain inside was impossible.
The imitation space within was not true space. If it bore too much, it would collapse and fail; size limitations also applied.
True spatial items should be something like Mustard Seed Space.
Qin He had one in his palm, and Armpit Space barely counted as one too.
That was why Qin He never used storage bags.
Once this storage bag tore, the things stored inside naturally leaked out like sand. It was completely empty.
Qin He examined the storage bag. An unknown flower had been embroidered upon it, its stitches fine and dense. Though it had endured who knew how many years, they remained clearly visible.
Shaking his head, Qin He chose a place sheltered from the wind blasts, took out the corpse, and began Corpse Purification.
It was the corpse of a man. His face had already withered away, but he had been tall and broad-boned.
In life, he must have been a large, powerfully built man.
He had suffered grievous wounds before death, and more than one at that. Even the same vital points had been struck multiple times. Whatever he had encountered, it had been unimaginably brutal.
Nothing could be discerned from his aura, but