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

It was only when she approached that she saw the teenager was holding a deck of cards, continuously shuffling and cutting the deck in his hands.


The flight attendant seemed captivated by the scene, her mind going blank for a moment.


The aura of a killer can be very elusive.


Ordinary people killing chickens will find the birds constantly struggling.


However, when butchers at a farmers' market kill chickens, they simply reach into the cage, and all the chickens quiet down, resigned to their fate.


Dogs in the village bark at strangers, but when faced with dog thieves who kill dogs daily, they submit quietly.


It's like an oppression in their bloodline, leaving them frozen stiff.


This thing is invisible, yet it seems to truly exist.


And that's what the flight attendant seemed to feel in that moment.


Qing Chen smiled, "Is there something you need?"


The flight attendant hesitated, feeling as if her fear melted away the instant he smiled.


401, Arctic_2