When that familiar feeling of dizziness hit, Zheng Qing had a strong sense of deja vu.
After steadying himself, he shook his head vigorously, trying to focus quickly. A slightly pungent smoke made him sneeze twice, speeding up the process of waking up.
Coming back to his senses, he found himself standing in front of a giant redwood bookcase. Behind the tall glass windows, neat rows of thick magic books were displayed, and a parade of shriveled demon skulls the size of baby fists lined up in front of the magic books, as if waiting for inspection.
Their menacing expressions deeply attracted the young wizard—happy faces are all similar, but each menacing face is different—this phrase suddenly emerged in his heart.
"Those are trophies from the Black Prison; if you're interested, you can take one or two." A slightly deep voice came from behind, from the dean of Jiuyou Academy.
Zheng Qing quickly turned around.
