On the floor.
A faint shadow quietly stayed at Zheng Qing's feet, long and serene. However, compared to the shadows of the Little Fox or other tables, chairs, and bookshelves in the office, this shadow was too light in color.
Just like the difference between a cup of plain water and strong tea.
A sense of understanding arose in Zheng Qing's heart, realizing that the 'mutated' part of his shadow had been cut off, leaving behind the part that had 'grown back.'
Since this shadow was left behind, where did the cut-off shadow go?
The boy immediately looked around and quickly spotted an odd patch of black shadow in the corner of the office. There was no decoration in that corner, and there shouldn't have been such a protruding shadow.
Seemingly aware of the warlock's gaze, the small odd patch of black shadow slowly extended, as if squeezed out like toothpaste from the corner, turning into an irregular sphere, sticking and drifting on the floor.
"Why is it still here... hic!"
