Shen Yuxi had finally finished losing his mind.
Those crazily flooding thoughts had been like a sudden downpour—violent in their arrival and swift in their departure. Once the lingering afterglow of that final wave of "stamp collection complete" faded away, his consciousness slowly drifted down from the clouds at last.
He blinked, only then noticing the circle of people surrounding him.
Chu Shihan silently watched him, his expression as complicated as if he had seen the cat his family had raised for three years suddenly start speaking human language. Wen Jian stood nearest, head lowered as his hands moved without pause, tightly bandaging the wound along Shen Yuxi's left ribs.
Shen Yuxi lowered his head and looked at himself.
His left ribs were wrapped in bandages, blood faintly seeping through from beneath them. His right shoulder was charred black. Though it had already been cleaned, no flesh tone could be seen; his clothing had fused to his skin. His arms were crisscrossed with burn marks, some still oozing pale-yellow tissue fluid.
...Damn. He silently said to himself, my image is utterly ruined.
Everyone: "..."
"Is that all you care about?"
Wen Jian's hands paused for a moment before continuing.
Don't get angry, don't get angry. Second Senior Brother is injured right now. Be gentle, be considerate. Yes...
But it was truly difficult.
Shen Yuxi really was badly injured.
Of course he was badly injured. Ling Anhe's lightning had no mechanics, only raw numbers. Though Shen Yuxi himself specialized in dealing true damage, he did not like running into substitutes of the same type at all.
It hurt too much.
Ugh... He began reflecting inwardly. I may have won, but it wasn't a glorious victory at all. I nearly died just now, didn't I?
Everyone silently nodded in their hearts. Yes,