"I haven't been controlled." Jiang Che fixed his gaze on him, once again repeating those words.
Leng Feng seemed a little dazed; he could feel the Dark Star energy inside him suddenly growing restless. The black veins on his skin twisted and squirmed like serpents.
He instantly pressed a hand against the center of his forehead.
A moment later, that restless energy finally calmed down.
This seemed to be what he and Jiang Che had discussed—a method to temporarily break free from control.
Leng Feng let go of his hand. He once again fished out the already shriveled pack of cigarettes from his pocket, mechanically reaching inside with his fingers.
Not long ago, he'd smoked the last cigarette.
Now, his two fingers pinched nothing, nothing came out at all.
He had considered many possibilities—the one he hadn't thought of was that Jiang Che hadn't been controlled.
Because to him, everything about Jiang Che was disturbingly strange, showing not a single trace of human behavior.
