The embroidered shoes agreed to Yang Fan's condition. Leaping down from his hand, they stepped with an unhurried gait, gradually ascending the thick tree trunk.
The trunk, covered with moss, was incredibly slippery. Yet, the shoes climbed steadily, as if gravity had no power over them.
Zhou Yingnan's eyes widened abruptly, staring in shock at the scene before him. In a low voice, he asked, "Boss Yang, you… this is…"
"A helper," Yang Fan replied nonchalantly.
Zhou Yingnan looked at Yang Fan in disbelief, his eyes fixed on him for quite a while before murmuring, "Your helper… is quite unique. A little… um, unbelievable."
"Since we're dealing with something out of the ordinary, it's only fitting to have some unconventional helpers," Yang Fan said.
A moment later, the embroidered shoes descended once more, still walking leisurely.
At that precise moment, an emotionless, detached voice sounded in Yang Fan's mind: "Blood. Nest!"
"Could you be a little clearer?" Yang Fan asked.
