He kept vomiting great mouthfuls of blood. If not for the shred of clarity in his mind telling him it was all fake, he doubted he could still believe he had any life left in him after seeing his own brains spill out.
Meanwhile, after the wall swallowed him, He Zheng could only watch as his thigh was crushed like a stalk of sugarcane. Under the wall's relentless pressure, his skin burst with a pop, like a sausage splitting over a fire.
Once the skin on his thigh burst, the muscle tissue inside split violently to either side, exposing blood-red tendons and ghastly white bone.
His blood vessels ruptured. Blood from his main artery shot up to the ceiling like a fountain, then splattered back down.
His body grew colder and colder. With so much blood lost, his consciousness blurred, as though he were being dragged into the darkness of death.
His body went limp, nearly dragging the corpse he was clutching off the roof beam. Luckily, the sudden jolt startled He Zheng awake, clearing his mind a little.
His entire lower body had been eaten. Blood covered his face, turning the world before his eyes scarlet.
He Zheng gasped for breath, his consciousness flickering like a flame in a bitter wind. In his daze, he seemed to see that figure walking toward him. Mustering his last scrap of strength, he bit down hard on the tip of his tongue. A moment later, without the slightest hesitation, he punched himself in the face!
Wake up! Wake up! I can't die... I won't die!!!
Fake! It's all fake...!!
He had no idea how this bullshit illusion worked. All he knew was that if it was all fake, then every sensation was fake too! No one but himself could hurt him!
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