The corners of Wang Yiwu's mouth moved.

It was as if he wanted to say something at this moment, but in the end, he took a deep breath and the words that reached his mouth turned into a sneer.

It was a feeling he was familiar with, yet foreign to him.

A fog seemed to appear before his eyes in the chaotic situation.

The mists are shadowed, hidden, void, yet real.

This feeling has gripped the North Sea Kings in recent years.

With Wang Prowler's previous ...