The clothes were drenched in fresh blood, presenting a glaring scarlet.
A cruelly large hole had been opened in Feng Yuhuai's chest, threads bursting apart, revealing an anxious and throbbing heart inside.
The heart seemed to be imprinted with a strange tattoo on its surface, resembling a dim, nearly lifeless cloth doll lying on it.
The cloth doll weakly sucked the blood from the heart, and Feng Yuhuai's face visibly aged; her skin lost its luster, wrinkles around her eyes deepened, as if time had accelerated her life's journey in an instant.
She could feel the injured [Puppet Mother•Clone] greedily sucking her life force without restraint, like a parasite ravenously extracting the host's essence, instilling her with extreme terror.
The threads in her chest, once tightly woven fibers, now lay broken, writhing feebly, trying to reconnect.
They were like worms trying in vain to find their other half in the soil, struggling to stick back together.
