"If you could completely control that great furnace inside you..."
The little girl's voice paused. She looked Yang Yong up and down, her gaze like two cold nails gouging across his body, inch by inch.
She shook her head.
"As you are now, you're not qualified."
Yang Yong fell silent.
He knew.
Of course he knew.
The Thousand-Hammer, Hundred-Refinement Furnace...
That terrifying presence sunk deep within his Gene Chain-he had barely scratched the surface of its surface.
Like an ant clinging to the mouth of a volcano, all he could feel was a little warmth, unaware that beneath his feet lay magma capable of burning everything to ash.
The predicament before them was not something he could resolve.
The conversation stalled there.
A thick silence hung in the air.
Just then...
Cao Xianming raised his hand.
Like a schoolboy asking to speak, perfectly straight and proper.
The little girl glanced at him. "Something to say?"
"Permission to speak."
"Go ahead."
Cao Xianming stood up.
The movement itself carried a certain resolve, like someone pushing all his chips onto the gambling table.
His very first words rooted everyone to the spot.
"He can help you."
Cao Xianming pointed at Yang Yong.
"Relieve some of the pressure."
"What?"
The little girl looked slightly surprised.
She turned her head and stared fixedly at Yang Yong.
Her gaze was like a scalpel.
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.
Time stretched out until it was suffocating.
No matter how she looked, how she scrutinized him, how she probed with that perception that did not belong to the mortal world...
She could not see how this Sequence One human could possibly help her resolve her current predicament.
She turned back to Cao Xianming.
"You say he can relieve my pressure?"
The little girl's voice was flat,