"What is this supposed to be?"
Zhang Fusheng muttered to himself, suddenly with a bitter smile:
"Have I become a public pawn? Does everyone want to draw something on me?"
"Is it because of the Contract?"
He lowered his eyelids, his state of mind oscillating between solidity and chaos, cracking at times, seemingly chaotic and destructive, yet glowing and clear in the next moment, repeating in this cycle.
And then.
In an unknown passage of time.
Suddenly, Zhang Fusheng calmed his heart, steadied his thoughts, and focused his mind.
"Thinking too much is pointless."
He muttered to himself, clearly realizing one thing — the Supreme entities, it seems, 'have desires concerning him.'
Or rather, he possesses something they want.
"Don't trust any Supreme."
"Borrow their power, leverage their strength to forge my path, to fulfill my destiny."
