"This is why I brought the Fishmen to the island."
Bai Zhou sat on the long table in the lecture hall, speaking slowly.
He was talking to Mo Ling, but his eyes were unfocused, as if he were staring at the Shadow under the desk.
"Later, I left the Chali Race and set out to find the Fishman Race, until they captured me and threw me in prison."
"When they first saw me, they couldn't even tell what race I was..."
Mo Ling watched the dazed Bai Zhou, his heart filled with worry.
As Bai Zhou recounted his experiences, his words were a jumbled mess. He was erratic, sometimes shouting unexpectedly, other times muttering unintelligibly to himself.
His expression was constantly shifting, as if the scenes were replaying right before his eyes.
Bai Zhou's body was still trembling slightly. Clearly, he hadn't yet emerged from his memories.
