Blood vessels crawled across the peeling walls, and bloody water flooded the floor. The hospital ward where Xia Yang lay seemed to have been erased from reality and hidden inside a nightmare.
Every instrument related to entering dreams went haywire. The charts on the screens twisted into dead faces, the needles spun backward, and the indicator lights burst silently, revealing red eyeballs opening inside them.
As all these bizarre sights filled Xia Yang's eyes, he laughed with utter delight. "Yes, yes! This is the world I see, the world I want to see! You did it! You really accomplished what I've always wanted to do!"
Standing at the center of the nightmare, the Blood City Tattoo crawling across his skin, Gao Ming looked down at Xia Yang. He was not Xia Yang's savior, much less his friend. To be precise, he was the one who had driven Xia Yang to his death, step by step.
Countless deaths had allowed Gao Ming to foresee almost everything. Back in Hanhai, Xia Yang had noticed this too. No matter how he calculated his moves, he could never beat Gao Ming, so he settled for the next best thing: not losing.
He killed himself and hid his will inside a Posthumous Photograph. As long as Gao Ming used his Posthumous Photograph, his will would influence Gao Ming, making Gao Ming more and more like him until Gao Ming became him.
At the time, Gao Ming's greatest enemy was Situ An. To kill Situ An, there was no way he could discard a top-tier Black-and-White Posthumous Photo.
"Tell me where your memories of Hanhai end." Gao Ming lowered his head, like a tsunami suspended over a lone boat.
"Does it matter where they end? Do you really care that much? Hahahaha! Those idiots all thought