The seventh level of the Rift.
The air was thick with a stifling stench of earth, dust, and decay that made one's throat itch.
Inside a certain women's clothing store, the light was dim. The shelves had been overturned, and the broken limbs of mannequins were scattered everywhere.
Deep inside the store, Zhou Shi leaned against the wall and panted heavily. Blood seeped through the bandages around his left arm, and his face was as pale as paper.
Beside him, Xue Ling lay on his back on the floor. A huge hole had been torn through his right abdomen. His armor plates were shattered, his flesh gaped open, and dark-red blood had soaked a small patch of ground beneath him.
His eyes were half-open and half-closed. He mumbled unintelligible syllables, his consciousness already blurred.
Gu Jinzhi was half-crouched in front of Zhou Shi, expressionless as he treated the fresh wounds on Zhou Shi's chest with regenerative gel.
The wound ran from his left shoulder all the way to his right ribs. It looked horrifying, but it was not deep—only a flesh wound.
But Zhou Shi knew very well that if Gu Jinzhi had not yanked him back just now, he would probably already be a corpse.
He gazed at Gu Jinzhi's sharply defined profile and watched his focused movements as he treated the wound. His Adam's apple bobbed once before he rasped:
"Mr. Gu... are you... really sure?"
Just now, Gu Jinzhi had said that he had decided to continue deeper alone.
Zhou Shi's heart had jolted, and he decided to confirm it one more time.
At his words, Gu Jinzhi did not stop moving, but the force in his hands unconsciously increased a little.
"Hiss—" Zhou Shi sucked in a breath from the pain.
"Save your strength." Gu Jinzhi's