Shen Cong sat on the truck's roof, seizing the time to guide the Great Vajra in alloying fire-spirit mediums, resonating and devouring.
At the same time, his gaze kept watching the four-legged dragon's condition. With one shot of C2-A144 administered, only two outcomes awaited the four-legged dragon — and the result was no longer something Shen Cong could decide.
"Life really is fragile." Watching the four-legged dragon, Shen Cong felt once more the fragility of life. "So I have to keep evolving, grow strong, cast off this fragile body, grasp my own fate. One day, no person and no thing will be able to seize my life at their whim!"
Evolution.
Either fail, and turn to yellow earth; or succeed, climb to the summit of the food chain, become a predator.
There was no such thing as scraping by alive.
This was Shen Cong's obsession, the drive that sustained his ceaseless advance.
The process of devouring fire-spirit mediums and drawing in Firestarter grains was like a parched, thirsty man replenishing water — this ability to feel his own progress at every moment made Shen Cong sink deep into it.
Only, he still spared a portion of his mind for the four-legged dragon.
This concern, Shen Cong didn't deliberately avoid. Outwardly he behaved with great coldness, but all of that was a disguise. He was indifferent to anyone — because they had never entered his world. The four-legged dragon had won his acknowledgment, existed within his world.
A man is no grass or tree; who can be without feeling.
Only, in Shen Cong's eyes, there was only his own world.
Blackhead had crawled over at some unknown point. Its relationship with the four-legged dragon wasn't good, because the four-legged dragon often drooled at the Vajra-Ants… As though sensing Shen Cong's low mood just now, the somewhat dim-witted Blackhead had grown quiet too, its pair of antennae touching gently.
This ant, only a meter and a half in size, had very weak Talent.
Only 0.41H, a low-grade jin beast, its intelligence limited in growth, still at the level of a two- or…