His face was pale as a corpse, and his pupils were as dark as ink, with no whites, only pure darkness that seemed to swallow all light.
In his hand, he held a Netherworld Bone Spear, its tip dripping with the blood of some genius, the blood droplets freezing into ice crystals in mid-air, shattering with a crisp sound when they hit the ground.
However, he didn't seem well himself, hit by a laser cannon from the trap right in the chest, the injury was deep enough to reveal his vital organs, which showed an ominous iron-green color.
Zhan Feng wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, sneered, and said, "I don't know what you're talking about, but the coffin-filler of the Netherworld Clan is really tough to survive this; truly a shame!"
It was unclear what conflict existed between the two, but they began to confront each other as soon as they met.
"Click!"
