Yang Yong looked in the direction she pointed, his brow twitching almost imperceptibly.
It was near the horizon, at that gray, hazy boundary between heaven and earth.
At that distance, never mind an old woman-even Yang Yong himself had to focus his vision to see clearly.
There lay one of the sections of the human-faced centipede's body left on the ground after it scattered.
Embedded in one of those sections was a head.
A bald head.
Round and gleaming bluish-gray, the bald head was inconspicuous beneath the gloomy sky.
The head had rugged features, thick brows, and deep-set eyes, yet its expression was utterly calm, its eyes tightly shut and its lips pressed into a line.
It neither howled with its mouth open like the other heads nor writhed madly as they did.
It was eerily quiet.
The bald head looked as though it were dead.
Or perhaps... meditating?
"What's wrong with that person?" Yang Yong asked quietly.
Zhang Dongyun closed her eyes again, as though peering into something invisible.
Her facial muscles twitched slightly, and her breathing grew rapid.
Only after a long while did she force a few words through clenched teeth in a hoarse voice:
"That fellow... his ability when he was alive..."
"What ability?"
"Folding space."
"Space?"
At those words, Yang Yong's temples throbbed sharply twice.
This was big trouble.
Abilities involving time or space belonged to the higher tiers of Sequence Transcendence.
Such abilities often defied common sense and could not be overcome through brute force alone.
Just then, Zhang Dongyun spoke again, her voice even drier.
"I... glimpsed his inner thoughts."
"What inner thoughts?"
"That person still has an extremely faint trace of consciousness left."
Yang Yong's gaze sharpened. "What consciousness?"
Zhang Dongyun slowly turned her head, her cloudy old eyes staring straight at