While staring at the state of his Perfection Saint Foundation, Wang Wei could not help but grit his teeth. Veins popped on his forehead, and his palm bled because he clenched so hard that his nail pierced his skin. Every atom in his body screamed to lash out, to rage, to unleash his wrath on the world — to burn everything on the ground.
However, he did not give in to his baser instinct. Instead, he suppressed his emotions, entering an absolute state of rationality. The process wasn't easy, but he forced himself to do it. Observing the writing in his [Existence], he sighed in relief.
"Although it's damaged, it's not destroyed," Wang Wei thought. "With the right method, I can recuperate. And this might not be such a bad thing."
