Imagine a tiger in a cage, starving for twenty-one days. What kind of frenzy would it unleash once it descends the mountain?
It's as if I can already envision the emperor wielding his ultimate imperial armament, sweeping across the world and terrifying all the heroes...
Ji Jue feels like he's got an air conditioner in his mouth, crazily inhaling in cold air.
So cold it tastes bitter.
"Definitely didn't quit drinking..."
Old Zhang's voice sounds by his ear, thin like a thread, even more bitter: "Run, kid... She's been drinking like this for half a month!"
What the heck?
You're stacking murder manuals here? How is there even a berserk mode?!
Ji Jue's scalp tingles, his legs go weak and he almost slides off the table, only to be grabbed and pulled back up.
"What kind of ghostly movement are you up to?"
Wen Wen's eyes are right up close, full of playful teasing, "Come, drink!"
Pa!
A bottle is stuffed into his hand, then expertly clinked, glug glug glug.
