"My spiritual power is fine." Si Yu looked at Tan Yue, the corner of his lip with its stud curling into a smirk. "But you're the one who's sick in the head. You really do need to go see someone."
The jab was a double entendre, alluding not only to the slight trauma his spiritual power had sustained but also to the fact that he was, as a person, genuinely sick in the head.
Hearing this pointed remark, the lazy smile on Tan Yue's face almost faltered. A vein seemed to throb on his forehead as he asked again, his voice cold, "So, are you in or not? Give me a straight answer."
"Why wouldn't I be?" Si Yu arched a sharp eyebrow. "How could I not get a piece of a good thing like this?"
"Fine." Hearing him agree, Tan Yue seemed to find the situation amusing. "Are you going to go snatch that Beastman yourself?"
