"Gudong..."
"Gudong..."
In the enormous culture dish, bubbles kept rolling, the dark yellow nutrient fluid surged without rest. Standing directly opposite the dish, Wen Yu Number 3 could see inside it that "ferocious" figure, about one meter tall.
An Ancient Demon was, in the end, an Ancient Demon. Even as only a child, at such a young age he'd already begun to reveal the sharp edge of the Ancient Demon Tribe.
Sturdy scale armor, sharp fangs and claws—every Ancient Demon was born a warrior… But who they fought for, that was a whole other topic worth talking about.
Race could change, belief could as well…
Number Three silently watched Guer inside the culture dish, until he faintly sensed Number One's blessing upon some newborn child. Only then did he turn his head, looking toward Wei Tian at the lab bench, who was constantly mixing medicinal potion.
"How's the preparation going?"
