Jiang Che kept silent, saying nothing more.
Because family never needs to say thank you.
He just needs to do better for them in the future.
"What happens if I touch it?" Flying Tiger stared at the blood-red crystal beside her.
The atmosphere in this dungeon was eerie; the moment Jiang Che announced its formation, the labyrinthine corridors connected in a strange way.
The dim wall lamps in the passage flickered, again and again.
The 'spirits' who had previously wandered aimlessly, all found their proper places once the dungeon formed.
At every blood-colored crystal was a 'spirit' dressed in a white uniform. In their hollow eyes, only the blood-red crystal's image was reflected.
Jiang Che gazed at the blood-colored crystal, slightly lost in thought. When creating the dungeon, what occupied his mind most was escaping from here.
The blood-colored crystal, born from the blood pouring out of his own body, in some sense was a representation of himself.
