Wenshui District.
"Pfft..." Mr. Yan, clad in the Flesh-and-Blood Wedding Dress, spat out a mouthful of blood.
He had just reached out, the sleeves of the blood-red wedding dress unraveling into red tendrils. Before they could reach Yu Qinghuan, however, his entire body convulsed as though he had been electrocuted, and he began vomiting mouthful after mouthful of blood.
This was the first time such a drastic change of expression had appeared on Mr. Yan's face.
Jiang Du immediately understood. The other players must have done something at that moment, and its effects had reached this mastermind behind the scenes.
Sure enough.
Mr. Yan first closed his eyes to sense what had happened. Then his deathly pale face instantly flushed red with fury.
"My ritual... my sacrifices! Who was it? Who cut off my ritual!"
He had barely finished roaring like a rabid dog when his expression suddenly froze.
"No..."
"I am your master..."
"No!" Mr. Yan trembled like a leaf in terror. He immediately reached up and clawed at the collar of his wedding dress, seemingly trying to rip the Flesh-and-Blood Wedding Dress off in one go.
But at that instant, the red tendrils he had extended abruptly withdrew, weaving together as swiftly as red threads, densely interlacing.
In the blink of an eye, they had woven themselves back into an exquisite red sleeve attached to the wedding dress.
"Wait..."
Mr. Yan tugged hard at the wedding dress. Every time he pulled, the spot he tugged at immediately unraveled into a dense mass of red tendrils. Yet in the blink of an eye, those tendrils wove themselves back into the shape of the wedding dress, covering him once more.
"No... wait! There'll be food right away... right away!" Mr. Yan's terror did not seem feigned. He immediately turned toward