This was an extremely crude house, possessing every attribute of a "broken shack"—drafty, leaky, and more. Still, the interior was kept fairly tidy.
The only relatively intact piece of furniture was a wooden chair, upon which Lal, thin and frail, lay weakly.
Though Lal had a long beard, he was not actually that old—only in his fifties. He merely looked utterly withered, as though half-dead.
Seeing that Little Jim had returned empty-handed without bringing back any food, yet had brought home a strange man who "didn't look like a good person" instead (Chen Rui: ...), Lal did not spare Little Jim any dignity. He launched into a furious tirade and even began throwing things, trying to drive both Little Jim and Chen Rui out.
"The wounds on your body aren't ordinary wounds. You've been poisoned with a deadly toxin."
Chen Rui's very first sentence brought Lal's curses to an abrupt halt.
"You saw that Little Jim seemed to have been forced to bring me here, and you were afraid of dragging him down, so you deliberately tried to drive him away. Don't worry—I mean no harm."
As the second sentence fell on his ears, Lal's gaze froze. Little Jim was just about to say something when he saw dazzling white light radiate from Chen Rui's body, so bright that he could not even open his eyes.
When the light receded, Lal's expression had changed from shock to astonishment. The withered look on his face gradually faded, sweeping away his usual sickly pallor and leaving behind a ruddy glow.
Lal gave a low shout, and an aura brimming with power burst forth, spreading in every direction. The muscles all over his body swelled like inflated balls, nearly bursting his shirt apart and revealing a tattoo on his chest. The entire house