The bedroom was filled with a faint scorched smell, mixed with a lingering stench.
Spirit's expression was composed. He withdrew his fist and stood still, his breathing so steady there wasn't the slightest fluctuation.
As if he had just casually crushed a bedbug to death, not worth spending any effort on at all.
He lowered his head and looked at Li Jiajia, who had collapsed on the floor.
The girl's eyes were tightly shut at this moment, and the black veins on her face had completely faded.
Though her face was still pale, a faint trace of living blood seemed to seep out under her skin.
Her breathing also became even, clearly showing signs of improvement.
Aside from her right arm hanging limply, in a dislocated posture, her body had no other injuries.
When neutralizing the shadow's assault just now, Spirit had shown extreme restraint; one could say he hadn't used even a fraction of his real strength.
