All that could be seen was a large hole torn open in the ribcage. Between the ghastly white ribs, the heart that should have been beating was nowhere to be found.
But right where the heart should have been, there was a tightly bound sheepskin scroll inserted conspicuously, its surface glistening with a sinister sheen under the streetlight.
"A blessing from the heavens?!"
Xiaojiu's bloodshot eyes suddenly erupted with a terrifying gleam.
The immense joy that descended from above immediately washed away all grievances, irritations, and the pain brought by the soul-burning technique.
Today, it seemed he'd met with bad luck for eight lifetimes, everything was going wrong, unexpected troubles popped up everywhere, first losing an arm, then aging from soul burning. It was, in short, a tragedy beyond words.
However, as the saying goes, when things reach an extreme, they reverse; when misfortune reaches its peak, fortune arises in its place, and the cycle of luck shifts.
