"It really is you, Lao Jiu!" The voice was dry and hoarse.
President Feng had reached the Fifth Grade decades ago. But now, looking at the person before him, he felt his hands and feet turn ice-cold.
Beneath the black robe, the appearance of this old acquaintance was simply too ghastly.
He was emaciated, his face a deathly pale, and he had no hair, not even eyebrows.
He looked just like a corpse.
It didn't end there. The man called Lao Jiu unwrapped the white cloth on his chest, revealing a fist-sized, blackish-purple mass of flesh. It had no skin, only a dense, grotesque network of blood vessels. It was bizarre and sickening.
President Feng fought back a wave of nausea. "Your heart?"
"It didn't grow back."
"I thought the Huang Family's Flesh Factory could regenerate organs?"
"They used too much Life Force just to save me. By the time they tried to repair my body, there wasn't enough left."
"So you can't try again?"
