Zheng Qing was not a pessimist.
He had never believed that in this World there were only bad people and worse people, but the voice coming from behind the bookshelf suddenly made him start to doubt his own stance a little.
The crow head on the bookshelf tilted slightly, as if urging the Warlock who had suddenly fallen silent.
Zheng Qing took a light breath and laboriously crawled out of that coffin. Because he had lost his Magic Power, his hands and feet were a bit weak at the moment, and he couldn't muster any strength at all.
It seemed that cup of tea not only had a drowsing and anti-magic effect, it also made one's limbs go limp.
He couldn't help wondering if it would also cancel out the innate defensive abilities of his body; this thought flashed through his mind.
Walking around the bookshelf, Zheng Qing felt his view suddenly open up.
