The answer was getting closer and closer to his guess, but it made him feel unbearable.
He walked up to the head that was drooping on the ground due to exhaustion.
He took out a piece of synthetic meat that all strange beasts loved to eat from the space and placed it next to its mouth.
The purple-red pointed beak moved twice, but it didn't eat anything.
He just pushed the flesh towards his abdomen, but couldn't push it far.
It looked at Ye Feng.
The big eyes were right on Ye Feng’s chest, tired but unwilling, filled with attachment and sadness.
The vitality inside was dissipating bit by bit, but he kept his eyes open desperately, trying hard to convey something.
Heavy and cautious.
Just like that Tongtian beast.
It's already the last gasp of its strength.
A deep sadness surged in Ye Feng's heart.
It's for him again.
He couldn't help but wonder if what the fortune teller said was true.
He really couldn't die, because at every critical moment, it wasn't him who died.
There are always lives lost for him.
He has seen too much life and death.
Every life is like a knife stabbing into the body.
Let him remember that he has to move forward with these lives on his shoulders.
As if it wasn't painful enough, it wouldn't be enough for him to remember.
How many more lives and deaths do you want him to witness, and how many lives do you want him to take on before you give up?
He couldn't bear the look, so he lowered his head and walked to the belly of the big bird.
He touched the warm bulge and looked at Mr. S next to him: "Is there any other way?"
He didn't want to rip open the bird's belly with a dagger.
The belly under his palm suddenly moved, and something touched Ye Feng's hand through the belly.
It slid past with a bulging sound, as if saying hello.
It felt magical and special.
It was as if he suddenly had some connection with the little life inside.
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