He stuffed the food in his hand into his mouth, licked his fingers, and picked up another piece of high-temperature fried meat.
"Because of fear, Mr. Barry."
Yang Ming sighed, looking up at the middle-aged man in front of him, whose shiny forehead reflected the light from the ceiling lamp.
"Fear?"
Yang Ming's gaze was somewhat grim: "Yes, I can never forget the fear that rose in my heart when that monster suddenly appeared in front of me... I've asked myself many times, just how strong do I need to become to walk out of that nightmare? But for now, it's not enough, far from enough."
"This..."
Levi Sherman secretly admired, his acting was quite good.
"Daru, if you need psychological intervention, I can help you apply for it."
"No need, Mr. Barry," Yang Ming sighed, "This is my motivation, the ability to continuously put pressure on myself. There's nothing wrong with that. When I see those mutants, I just want to eliminate them directly."
