The current Chen Pingchuan was vastly different from his former self. Through frequent use of his "Phantom Hands" skill, he had honed it to the peak of perfection. The skill now felt innate, and he could execute it with effortless fluidity.
His lips moved almost imperceptibly, as if silently whispering some ancient, mystical incantation. In an instant, a liver, still warm and coated in a layer of yellow grease, materialized out of thin air in his palm. The greasy stench of the organ made Chen Pingchuan's stomach churn, and a wave of intense revulsion washed over him.
