Chapter Content
Individual imagination and collective imagination
Cao Qian was still chopping, seemingly oblivious to the pain. In her eyes, she was pulling off ant legs, but in reality, she was slicing into her own thigh with an eerie excitement in her expression.
Guan Ling, hiding behind Xing Ye, whispered, "Boss, do you think if I hit her on the back of the head and knock her out, it'll help?"
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