PREVIEW
... e the slum’s garbage dump.
Wearing a set of Fish Scale Armor, Mo Qingchen sat upright at the edge of the bed, his eyes slightly closed, quietly waiting for the Abyss to arrive.
On the table not far away, a clock was placed, its ticking sound echoing in his ears.
As the clock’s hands moved, the nearer it got to 12 noon.
When the three clock hands overlapped, a unique Abyssal Aura crossed countless light years, tearing through the world’s barrier to arrive.
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