Within the Sea of Consciousness, the vast starry sky gradually faded, and Lin Dong's figure grew transparent.
"All right. Getting the first move of the Great Desolate Prison Finger to this level in three days already makes you a genius." With his arms folded, Lin Dong looked at Tang Wulin, whose entire body exuded a vast, ancient aura, his eyes full of approval. "You'll have to slowly comprehend the rest of the path yourself. Remember, this move is all about 'overwhelming momentum,' the power to suppress everything. Don't turn it into an empty flourish."
Tang Wulin bowed respectfully, excitement gleaming in his eyes. "Thank you for your guidance, Senior Lin Dong! I'll give it everything I have!"
"Go on. Don't keep that little body of yours waiting outside." Lin Dong waved, his figure dissolving into specks of starlight that vanished into the void.
As his consciousness abruptly shuddered, the scene before Tang Wulin's eyes changed in an instant.
He withdrew from the Sea of Consciousness and returned to his dorm room in the real world.
"Hiss—"
The moment he opened his eyes, Tang Wulin sucked in a sharp breath. He instinctively tried to move his body, only to discover that even moving a single finger had become exceedingly difficult.
Although his training within the Sea of Consciousness had ended, the pain that penetrated deep into his marrow had not disappeared with it.
It felt as though every bone in his body had been dismantled and then pieced back together—a thoroughly excruciating ache. A dull soreness seeped from every gap between his bones, as if a heavy truck had just run him over. It was not enough to leave him writhing in agony, but this unrelenting, dull ache was even harder to bear than intense pain, leaving his whole body uncomfortable.