"Gulp." Clutching his wound, Li Long swallowed hard. He felt something was wrong—things were spiraling in a direction he hadn't even imagined.
After Anna finished drawing, she double-checked her work, tossed away the finger tiger, and began chanting the sacrificial spell in a low, grim voice.
Li Long quietly scooted backwards, wanting to get out of the concentric circle. He didn't know what was going on, but it definitely didn't look like anything good.
But his movements immediately drew Anna's attention. She abruptly stopped chanting, snatched up the glass ashtray beside her, and smashed it onto his head with a dull thud. Instantly, Li Long's head split open, blood spilling everywhere as he collapsed, uncertain if he was alive or dead.
She did some simple first aid to keep him from bleeding out and dying. Then Anna began reciting the sacrificial spell again.
The clock on the wall went tick-tock, seconds slipping by as Anna's deep voice echoed through the room.
