In Yang Yan's vision, clots of thick blood defied gravity as they slowly floated upwards.
The speed was so slow that it seemed steady.
The scene was like injecting fresh blood into some creature.
The eerie whispers gradually increased, and the white mist finally cleared completely at this moment.
The scene before them was fully exposed to Yang Yan and Ao Tian.
Deep underground about three hundred meters ahead of them, more than a dozen black-clad figures lay prostrate on the ground.
The leader was continuously pouring something into the source of the bronze chute.
Even Yang Yan couldn't see what was in his hands.
The transportation pipe, as tall as a skyscraper, was methodically transporting the filthy blood upwards.
Yang Yan didn't know what this was, but just by looking at it, he knew that at this speed, it would take a long time to reach the top.
Yang Yan looked up above, but could only see the bronze transportation pipe.
