Untitled
Redakteur: Atlas Studios
His sister's words struck his brother like a lightning.
Even though there was no lightning in this world, the cowardly youth still felt as if something in the depths of his heart had cracked.
…Just like the cracked sky.
Memories of the past came flooding out of the cracks in his heart.
His father, who was tall, strong, sincere, and always laughing like the sun.
Even if he were to die, it would be for the sake of exploring the supreme mysteries of the Iron Fist Dao. For the great Fist God, he would die a glorious death.
But it was actually fake?
The familiar yet clear memories turned strange and fuzzy.
The sincere, righteous, straightforward, and vigorous father did not exist. In his place was a sinister, evil, and sneaky evil disciple.
The young man's world was collapsing inch by inch.
Like a high tower made of sand facing a roaring ocean, it turned into sand again.
"That's impossible."