Droplets of water hang from the joints of rusty water pipes, and then, with inertia, fall, making a slight knock on the water, constantly reverberating in the tiled room.

It is like a person who has come to the end of his life struggling to spit out words, half-contained, just waiting for a future that will fall in one breath.

Instantly shattered into thinner beads, then gathered together and flowed in the direction of the low section of the sewer.

The boy in the white shirt was lying on the ground, a large amount of blood gushing out from his facial features and neck, he struggled to hold the wound, but he couldn't control his wrist, which had begun to disobey the call, only a half-clenched fist, but more like the claws of the beast that only stretched out after death.

The pitiful and futile look was not half touched in the eyes of the abuser, and he chuckled

Chapter 85 of "Healing a Hundred Diseases in the Lower Package" The third life debt is being hit in the hand, please wait a while,

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