Two hundred seventy-one. The death of Vinson

The narrow, damp space echoed with the sound of water droplets.

Faint whispers murmured, blending into a bizarre, dream-like state, making it difficult to distinguish reality.

Consciousness sprouted, the echoing whispers, pain in his abdomen, and the cold touch of the wall behind him gradually became clear.

Lu Li began to regain his ability to think, opening his heavy eyelids as if they were being pressed down by fingers. The light source on the wall radiated, transitioning his vision from blurry to clear.

No obscure, ancient sounds arose.

Splash—

Lu Li moved his arm slightly, something clamped around his wrist, making a noise of colliding chains as he shifted.

The murmuring silenced, his movement drawing the attention of others in the space.

Urgent, jumbled voices reached his ears along with a figure blocking his sight; the just-awakened Lu Li struggled to discern who it was or whose voices they were.

"Where is Sara," Lu Li frowned slightly.