Chen Ge stared at the cup in front of him, feeling that his world view was being rubbed against the ground.
The cup is an ordinary glass with a few tea leaves soaked in it, rising and falling. The problem was not with the cup, but with the person holding the cup—his immediate boss, department head Wang Hai.
Wang Hai had his signature greasy smile on his face and said some words of encouragement, but behind him, a humanoid silhouette composed of pure, flowing black smoke was twisting with teeth and claws.
This thing is at it again.
