"Nana!!" Li Huowang's heart-wrenching scream echoed throughout the room. Yang Na was dead. She had died in his arms.
Gazing at Yang Na, who lay peacefully dead in his arms, Li Huowang felt as if a rusty, dull knife had been plunged into his heart and was being twisted relentlessly.
Don't panic! Calm down! We haven't lost yet! We haven't lost! There has to be a way! Panting heavily, Li Huowang gritted his teeth and repeatedly struck his own head with his knife, trying to use the pain to force himself to calm down.
But the method, once foolproof, was useless now. No matter how many times he hit himself, he felt no pain. The Fate Commander of Pain was dead too.
Just as Li Huowang's vision began to blur, he heard the faint sound of music. His single eye darted across the corpse-strewn room, finally landing on Zhao Shuangdian's laptop. That's where the sound was coming from—a notification chime.
