Tick, tick...
Thick, foul-smelling black liquid dripped beside Dark 2, forming a puddle of sludge.
His shoulder, along with half of his chest, looked like it had been scraped by a scalding branding iron, leaving a huge gash.
The skin and flesh had vanished, and the ribs on the side were broken, exposing the frantically beating, blood-splattered heart, some disgusting rotten liquid still adhering to it.
Feng Mu gasped in horror, recalling the first time he met his senior brother, perhaps he was just a step away from turning into a puddle himself?
As an ally, Feng Mu felt his scalp go numb, but after the terror came an overwhelming sense of security.
He couldn't determine which level of martial artist his senior brother was, but it was clear, his viciousness was unparalleled.
[Black Face], whom Feng Mu had once greatly feared, couldn't even last a round against the senior brother and turned to mud.
