He always wore the mask the old monster had become. The mask was like a living creature, a separate entity that his special ability couldn't analyze. Yet, it was connected to him, and he could activate it with a mere thought.
The giant centipede seemed to have finished spewing its toxic mist. Yang An was bogged down within it, as countless tendrils of a black substance wrapped around the monster's body, forming what looked like black Armor on its surface.
The next moment, the countless arms on the giant centipede's body began to move rapidly, and it transformed into a black shadow, lunging toward Yang An.
Without hesitating, Yang An connected with the mask on his face.
Suddenly, the crimson flame on the mask flared violently. Where Yang An stood, his surroundings were like swirling ash, burning away and transforming layer by layer.
