"Chat?!"
Jiang Chengyue, like an injured lone wolf, squeezed out a hoarse cold laugh from deep within his throat.
The tip of the knife pointed steadily at Fang Qingyu, "I have nothing to chat about with you. Get out!"
Fang Qingyu, seeing this, showed no change in expression.
"Buzz—"
A deep, sticky darkness, seemingly capable of swallowing all light, once again spread silently from him like a living entity.
Endless!
Instantly engulfing the whole safe house of less than ten square meters, along with the five people inside and Jiang Chengyue.
Absolute darkness.
Absolute silence.
Everyone's heartbeat and breath were completely absorbed by this sticky darkness.
Jiang Chengyue felt as if his five senses were deprived, leaving only the cold sword handle in his hand offering a faint sense of reality.
He had never felt such complete darkness and isolation, as if plunged into the abyss of space.
In this suffocating darkness, faint footsteps echoed.
