Darkness.
This is an environment shrouded in misty darkness.
It seems as though everything around is entirely like frosted glass, dim and lightless.
A thin fog envelops Jiang Dali's exhausted and uncovered robust body, as if ice flowers like fragmented jade drift around, dispersing sharp cold that pierces the skin, causing his face, torso, and toes, which are comparable to divine weapons, to feel as if they are being gnawed by mice, sending waves of pain.
"Is this... the passage from the Mixed Martial Arts World to reality, the deep, unfathomable chasm that Moluo spoke of? It truly is unfathomable, I've been falling for a full one thousand three hundred breaths of time, yet I haven't reached the bottom?"
Jiang Dali murmured in confusion, his feelings inexplicably becoming complicated, like the feeling of a near-hometown nervousness.
"Hehehehe... I actually have such strange feelings... It seems that the battle just now really took a serious toll on me."
