Without the Mask
Wu Jian felt like a mountain had slammed into him. Loong Chen’s fist contained a strength he’d never felt before. The moment it struck, it felt as if all the organs in his body had burst like overripe fruit.
He lay in a crater, staring up at the clear blue sky. He was having breathing problems. Every lungful of air he took brought with it a sharp pain like needles stabbing into his flesh. He couldn’t move either. Matters only became worse when his transformation wore off. Pain struck every nerve in his body, but he couldn’t do a single thing about it, such was his exhaustion. Wu Jian couldn’t even move.
“Ooooi. You still alive, brat.”