Fisher's question had just arisen when the woman next to him, who was holding him, lifted her hand in a time-reversal manner and aimed it at his face nestled in the swaddling clothes.
From the gap in her sleeve, Fisher clearly saw a scar on her arm, healed but still hideous, shaped like a torn crab. It must have been left a long, long time ago...
This scar...
Subsequently, he seemed to hear the woman's voice. She sounded like a madwoman, speaking in a language that Fisher had never heard before yet was perfectly pronounced and rhythmically intonated,
"%￥@!#"
What language is this?
She should be a human, but the language she spoke wasn't Southern Continent Language, Northern Language, or Western Continent Language...
Who exactly is this woman...
Then suddenly, everything before his eyes turned white, as time reversed to a blank state, as if his life started from the moment this peculiar woman's voice echoed!
