The backyard of this asylum faces the bay, and tonight's sea tide is unusually fierce. The roar of the waves crashing against the reefs resembles thunder, and nine massive bronze pillars stand on the sea, each lighting up with a scorching red glow.
The elderly man in the wheelchair chanted ancient spells, his long white hair fluttering in the wind. His aged body was completely withered, like a ghost returning from Hell, seemingly ready to dissolve at any moment into the thunderous tide. He cut open his wrist, and molten blood spurted out, staining the dark sea red.
He waved his arms and legs, shouting in ancient language, appearing both ridiculous and strange.
Like a madman.
The sea tide seemed to boil, turning crimson, resembling the totem of a Qilin!
Space-time faintly trembled, and the sea appeared to be gathering some massive shadow.
"Truly insane."
Gu Jianlin silently poured himself a glass of whisky, the golden liquid rippling in the sea breeze.
