Do you think this is cultivating immortality?
No, this is a slaughterhouse.
Do you think I am the protagonist?
No, I am an experimental subject.
The little finger of his left hand glows, carved into the realm, and runes grow on the bones.
The whispers tell me: They are all lying to you.
I don't trust anyone.
I number, record, analyze, and predict each person.
Then watch them die one by one.
The senior brother is dead, the second senior sister is dead, the third senior brother is dead, and Ah Fu is also dead.
Only I live.
Because I'm crazy.
The madman's seventh finger is better than any magical weapon.
