Without a moment to wipe the sticky, nauseating vomit from his face, Pei Yan hurriedly bent down to pick up the source fragments spewed out from the garbage, one, two, three, until eight fragments of death energy were expelled as the garbage body convulsed.
Just as Pei Yan was taking the bottled water from Zhao Yuanhu, who pinched his nose, to wash his face, the garbage body shuddered again, mouth opening to vomit, and three bright orange-yellow fragments were thrown up.
Seeing this, Pei Yan's eyes lit up, and he swiftly picked them up, holding them in his hand. As the orange-yellow fragments entered his grasp, he felt a fierce repulsion with his right hand, which contained the power of death, as if his palm was being scorched by flames. The pain drew his mouth awry, and he flung them away.
"That's it!" Jun Zhao's voice resounded in Pei Yan's mind just as the fragments left his hand.
