"Haha... you really leave no room for survival... huh..."
The head that Wu Liang had chopped off with the kitchen knife suddenly opened its eyes, the jaw moving mechanically as it intermittently spat out a sentence.
As the [Pioneer] uttered such words, tens of slender blood-flesh tendrils suddenly extended from the heart in Wu Liang's other hand.
Snap—
The next second, these tendrils pierced deeply into Wu Liang's palm like sharp needles.
The entire blood-red heart, still beating, at this moment looked like a peculiar golden beetle, tightly clinging to whatever it could catch.
"It's a pity... your ruthlessness... was expected by me all along..."
The [Pioneer's] voice continued to intermittently emerge from the mouth of that head, and as it sounded, blood-flesh tendrils spread from the neck, clutching Wu Liang's hand tightly.
For a moment, both of his hands were occupied by this eerie entity.
