History never dies, it just cracks -
The excavator that demolished the temple and relocated the tomb unearthed mourning paper figures;
The midnight subway penetrated the blood mist and entered the Lishan execution ground;
In the live broadcast on the mobile phone, the human skin peeled off by the cheongsam woman turned into a barrage carnival...
My name is Mo Zheng, and my mind can see the "corrosion holes" - the cracks in history where turbidity leaks out.
When Qin's curfew covers the CBD, when the terracotta warriors and horses line up in Bell Tower Street to demand their lives,
The man in black who calls himself Zhenyuan Division told me:
"If the purity and turbidity are out of balance, the world will become the 19th level of hell."
I was accidentally involved in the turbid gas leakage incident, and I was forced to take charge of the compass:
The cinnabar bullets of the Talisman Master Girl, the Cyber Nuo Noodles of the Mohist Organ Master,
And the bronze rust spots in my body that grow with strength...
They are all warning me: The price of fighting history is becoming history!
