"Does consciousness determine everything?"
Thomas murmured, yet a 'click' sounded under his hand, and the small wooden box in front of him finally opened. There was no dazzling treasure as Zheng Qing imagined, nor any enticing wave of magic power.
"—Your idea is indeed unique."
The owner of the office shook his head with a smile, reached into the box, and took out a pile of gray stuff, then gestured to Zheng Qing: "Come and try it."
At that moment, Zheng Qing was just savoring the wonderful taste of the tea. Hearing this, he quickly took another sip, put down the cup, and walked towards the desk.
"What is this?"
"Protective clothing."
