Li Jiajia smiled and looked up at the priest who had approached closely.
Her neck made a "crack crack crack" sound of bones grinding, as if each vertebra was forcibly twisting.
Beneath the disheveled hair, her dry, bleeding lips slowly pulled upward, widening more and more.
Ultimately, they settled into an exaggerated curve that no ordinary person could achieve.
"Is that all you've got?"
A rough voice, sounding like a man's, rang out again, full of mockery and ridicule.
She stared at the cross in the priest's hand, spitting out a bloody saliva:
"Do you think some tap water can drive me away? You glasses-wearing waste, you don't even know your wife is cheating on you outside, pretending to be a saint here?"
With this sentence, the priest's face instantly turned pale, retreating two steps.
With a "clang", his back heavily collided with the wardrobe door.
"You… you're talking nonsense!"
