The Speaking Pork Trotter

In the neon of blue and purple, under the thick steel sky, at the forefront of this surge of data, lies the world post-tech revolution.
It's also the dividing line between reality and illusion.
Steel and flesh, past and future.
In this place, the world outside and inside coexist. Everything in front of us feels like a wall of time within reach.
The darkness is slowly creeping in.
But hey, my friend, you gotta know, we can't just counter darkness with softness.
Gotta use fire.

Naming Technique of the Night

Lordbluefire

For a moment, the image of daylight rose high again in his heart.


However, after Li Changqing dialed the number, the call was not connected.


On the 132nd floor of Luo Shen Building, Qing's Shadow sat beside the dining table, watching Qing Chen's phone light up: "Who would call in the middle of the night when they've got nothing better to do?"


He had no intention of answering the phone, and he didn't even look to see who was calling.


The room was pitch dark and quiet, save for the sound of the Shadow boiling water for himself.


After an unknown amount of time, Qing Chen gradually woke up, feeling a burning pain in his abdomen, hurting with every movement.


His arms and back had all suffered immense damage from Wang Bingxu's kick.


Dazed, Qing Chen looked at the three twisted corpses lying on the floor of his living room: "What is this...?"


325. The Disappearing Qing Chen_3