Some things in this world were actually destined to happen.
Many times, you struggled desperately, thinking you had escaped your original fate, yet little did you know that the fate after escaping was still fate itself.
Your desperate leap was no more than jumping from one wave to another; you had never truly leaped out of fate's river.
Just like in Wuxia stories, the young man determined to sever his past ultimately became trapped in the grudges and entanglements of his origins; the great hero who swore to wash his hands in a golden basin always returned to the Jianghu after old friends arrived with wind and rain.
Fang Ran deeply understood that at this moment.
Even after refusing to say anything under threat of Meng Lang's photos, he had thought he had escaped the classic development of "go home—brag—Ling suddenly appears—get caught red-handed."
But he had never expected that he still could not escape being held accountable.
He had even gotten beaten up extra.
Beneath the Night Bureau, within the grand Mechanical Micro-City where Wandering Night Star stood silently,
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!"
A deep, pig-slaughter-like scream echoed through the air.
In the air beside Wandering Night Star, a figure tightly bound by Mechanical Rope hung from a floating point of light. With that point as the center of a sphere,
he was being swung at high speed through a full 360 degrees, tracing spherical paths with no blind spots.
This was more extreme than any extreme sport. The centrifugal force was so absurd that it surpassed even the most intense pilot-training programs. Probably only a participant with his physical abilities could endure it.
For an ordinary person, forget their underwear getting flung away—they might already have been dead for a while.
When he had heard that Ling wanted to settle accounts