Wei Xiaofeng's body suddenly arched, a muffled groan caught in his throat, before he began convulsing violently.
"Come."
Leng Yulai bent down and leaned close to Wei Xiaofeng's ear.
"Let me see just how far your will and your hatred can take you. If you can't survive, that only proves you are nothing special... and unworthy of serving the Holy Spirit Cult."
Wei Xiaofeng's eyes flew open.
Those eyes had turned completely blood-red.
His pupils were dilated, and the whites of his eyes were covered in web-like black veins.
"Ah—!"
He let out a heart-rending howl and sprang up from the bed.
His body twisted at impossible angles, his bones cracking and splintering.
Excruciating pain swept through every inch of his nerves.
Zhang Yangzi and Wang Jinxi instantly went pale, huddling in the corner and trembling in a heap.
They looked at Wei Xiaofeng struggling in agony on the bed, then at Leng Yulai smiling beside it, and finally at Ye Yingluo's bloodless face.
The power of the Abyss.
This was obviously the Holy Spirit Cult.
That woman in the purple dress clearly wasn't anything good.
Had they gotten caught up in some bizarre evil conspiracy?
Wei Xiaofeng clutched his throat tightly, his gaze fixed on Leng Yulai.
But his vision was warping.
Leng Yulai's face became countless overlapping phantoms in his eyes, before shattering into millions of fragments.
Then he saw another face.
He remembered that bowl of soup.
He remembered how Universal Heavy Industry had driven his family into bankruptcy.
He remembered the 650,000 Federal Credit fine.
He remembered the letter his mother had left behind, saying she could no longer bear it, and the sight of her vanishing into the sea of people, never to be heard from again.
He remembered the humiliation when his fiancée broke