Whenever he thought of these cruel and hollow questions, a nameless fire would rise within Ye Chen's heart.
Especially today—several times, whenever those painful memories resurfaced, his pupils began to dilate, his heartbeat quickened, and his teeth clenched.
Of course, Ye Chen did not let anyone notice.
He reached into his pocket and took out a classic Heaven Cigar, deftly clipped its cap and lit it. Then, gazing up at the vast, glittering starry sky overhead, he sat alone by the pool, puffing out clouds of smoke.
In the past, whenever Ye Chen smoked, it was to lessen the mental strain caused by the Abyss's malice within him through hallucinations.
Yet ironically, even though the Evil God Avatar had now been utterly destroyed, Ye Chen still could not do without this sort of stress-relieving prop.
Having lived this long, he had realized that the more he experienced, the more prone he became to melancholy.
"Phew."
Exhaling a thick cloud of smoke, Ye Chen rubbed the space between his brows with a dim expression, deciding to shift his attention to something more practical.
With the cigar clenched between his teeth, he first raised the index finger of his left hand.
Whoosh!
With a crisp sound, a mass of crimson bloodlight appeared at Ye Chen's fingertip.
It was the glow of power that symbolized Bloodsmith.
Ye Chen stared at the bloodlight on his right hand in silence for a long while before raising the index finger of his right hand.
Immediately afterward, another crisp sound rang out.
Whoosh!
Just like that, a glimmer of light appeared out of thin air at the tip of Ye Chen's right finger as well.
But—
Compared to the first crimson bloodlight, this second light was darker and deeper than the night sky above.
And this was