Yang Yong did not choose to dodge...
Bound by both chains and talismans, he could not dodge even if he wanted to.
He merely adjusted his angle, turning the right side of his body toward Wang Hongyu's ghost claws.
Clang!
A sharp ring sounded.
It sounded like metal striking metal.
The smug look froze on Wang Hongyu's face.
He looked down at his ghost claws. His nails were intact, but a numbing, jarring pain throbbed through his fingertips.
He looked at the right side of Yang Yong's body again. Five slashes had been torn through the black robe, but the skin beneath was completely unharmed.
No.
That was not skin.
Wang Hongyu yanked open Yang Yong's black robe.
Then he saw it.
The right side of Yang Yong's body, from shoulder to waist, was covered in a layer of hard bone.
Those bones were not armor resting against his skin. They had grown out of his flesh.
The overlapping bone plates resembled the armor of some ancient creature, their surfaces bearing a cold, hard, matte sheen.
The ghost claws had not left so much as a white mark on them.
"There's no way you're human."
Wang Hongyu's voice sank.
It was not a question.
It was a statement.
Unease welled up inside him.
The terms the Third Elder had promised were tempting, but the man in the ghost mask before him felt increasingly wrong.
I can't drag this out.
Wang Hongyu steeled himself.
He abruptly stepped forward, pressed his hands against either side of Yang Yong's head, and placed his forehead against Yang Yong's.
Forehead against forehead.
Skin against skin.
Yang Yong froze.
What is this guy trying to do?
Hey! No! I'm not interested in men!
Still, he did not sense any danger.
The touch against his forehead was