If there were still normal cats in this universe, only the image of a frightened cat with all its fur standing on end could describe the scene right now.
The silent Trazyn sprang up at once. Lin Fan had never known this Necrontyr Overlord could jump so high.
Trazyn reached both hands behind his back and found an insignificant scratch. Lin Fan had just been about to apologize when Trazyn began to wail.
"No! No! I haven't finished my collection list! I haven't preserved every moment of history!" Trazyn panicked. He dropped to his knees and cursed his rotten luck.
"Um... Old Trazyn..." Lin Fan called out, trying to explain that the scratch on his back had not been caused by a Flayer.
But Trazyn gave Lin Fan no chance to explain. He suddenly grew agitated, raising his voice to drown out Lin Fan's as he rushed over, tightly gripping both of Lin Fan's hands in his own.
"I'm beyond saving... I'll soon be infected by the Flayer Virus's flesh madness. Before that, I can only entrust the museum to you..."
Lin Fan had wanted to say something else, but seeing Trazyn acting as though he were making his final arrangements piqued his interest. He was interested in teasing Trazyn, and also immensely curious about his museum.
With that in mind, Lin Fan's expression turned grave. He fully put the acting skills Slaanesh had taught him to use. Even Yvraine could not have found the slightest flaw in the grief on his face.
"Old Trazyn, tell me. I'm here." As he spoke, Lin Fan gave Trazyn's hand a firm squeeze, conveying boundless support.
Trazyn felt his body slipping beyond his control. Trembling, he slowly lay down, and Lin Fan cooperatively settled Trazyn in his arms.
"I... I feel like I'm