"Forget it, forget it... at least I know how Lao Lin's doing, and he knows I'm still alive..."
"As long as Lao Lin's okay..."
"Sigh..."
"Lao Lin, oh, Lao Lin... there's not much time. You'd better 'adapt' soon..."
Mao Feiyang glanced at the sky, where thunderclouds gathered in a swirling vortex. The cracks in the sky were long gone, as though they had been an illusion.
He picked up his drawing paper and set up his easel again, but looking at the palette he had tossed aside, the paint bucket he had kicked away, and the paint all over the ground, he couldn't help rubbing his brow with a headache.
"Did I... fucking do all this?"
"Must've been Lao Lin, right? Definitely him... he's the only one who'd pull this kind of shit."
"Tsk... my head hurts. My head hurts..."
He plopped down on the ground and propped his chin in his hand, staring at the drawing paper as he shook his head and sighed helplessly.
"Oh, come on! You're the one who fucking did all this! You're making me take the blame for this shit too?!" Sharing Mao Feiyang's first-person perspective, Lin Yi had seen his every move. Hearing him shift the blame now made Lin Yi practically stamp his feet in anger.
But he suddenly realized something-when he had heard Mao Feiyang talking to himself just now, Mao Feiyang hadn't opened his mouth at all!
In other words, what he had heard... were Mao Feiyang's thoughts?
Rumble...
Rumble...
Dull thunder sounded overhead, and Mao Feiyang faintly felt droplets of water land on his cheeks.
He instinctively touched his face, then realized it wasn't seawater. "Raindrops... is it about to rain?"
Just then, he suddenly noticed a beam of light strike the spire behind his Lookout. He looked toward