Xue Chen isn't dead yet, but at the moment, he is extremely weak, even breathing has become exceptionally difficult, as if each inhalation is a ruthless plunder of his life energy.
His body weakly leans against a broken rock, eyes flickering with the afterglow of unwillingness and despair.
On the other side, the situation with Macaron is equally grim.
Although he miraculously blocked the explosion of that blood drop, the shockwave still left him severely injured, his body covered with wounds, stained with blood, and his breathing was like a flickering candle in the wind, clearly on the brink of extinction.
He barely managed to support himself, a twisted smile hanging on his face, seemingly trying to cover his internal panic.
"Hahaha, good. Great, Lin Dong, we've won!" Macaron's words carried a faint tremor, as if trying to convince himself, as well as projecting a false victory stance to Lin Dong.
