"Ah-San, are you alright?"
Mu Jinyu looked at San Liu's expression of utter despair and glanced at the pellet drum in his hand, asking with a tone of uncertainty.
Because from the outside, San Liu didn't seem to have sustained even the slightest injury, yet mentally, he appeared to have suffered considerable devastation.
Could the pellet drum, produced through refining, not function as he had anticipated—to intimidate others' spirits and control them—but rather to attack the soul directly?
"Heh, heh…"
Having recovered a bit of his energy, San Liu shivered, gasping for breath, then struggled to his feet from the ground, and with resentful eyes, looked at Mu Jinyu and said, "Dragon Master, this magic treasure isn't quite what I had in mind?"
