Bob slammed into the wall with a crash, his head plummeting to the ground, his neck twisting into a strange arc as he fell.
Fortunately, as a player, he was tough and resilient. After a few moments, Bob's fingers trembled slightly as he lifted his dust-covered face.
As long as he's not dead, that's good.
John Joyce and the others breathed a sigh of relief internally, but they didn't rush to help him up, as they were still unclear about Bob's current condition.
"Buddy, how do you feel?" John Joyce called out from a distance.
"What, what happened to me?" Bob stood up and reached out to rub his dusty head, a confused expression on his face. "My head, it hurts a bit..."
How could it not hurt? The guy smashed his head into the ground; his neck was nearly broken!
