Sitting across from Chen Zhou, Ivan seemed very much like a thin and aged osprey. If his face hadn't changed significantly, Chen Zhou might not have recognized him.
Two years is not enough for the aftereffects of the transformation project to turn a warrior who has endured decades of suffering into this.
Ivan tightly grasped a full cup of vodka with his skeletal hands, his lips trembling, unable to speak for a long while.
Chen Zhou knew Ivan might have really found that lost base, but the development was as he had predicted two years ago— a harbinger of disaster.
Ivan must have encountered some mishap at the base to be reduced to this near-death state.
...
The warmth from the tavern's heater covered a large area, and it seemed the boiler's coal hadn't been extinguished for days, with the indoor temperature soaring to 25°, forming a stark contrast with the snow and ice outside.
