Because, behind him, there were so many brothers.
And those brothers who had once sacrificed themselves.
Mu Xingye's eyes were a little wet, wanting to say something, but it felt like a thorn in his throat.
"Young Master Mu, there are some medicines in the car. Let's treat your wound first."
Mu Xingye nodded and tore open his clothes.
He had just injected himself with a dose of medication, and his condition had stabilized. It was urgent to treat the wound to prevent the situation from worsening.
After treating the injury, Mu Xingye leaned tiredly against the car seat. Although the situation hadn't worsened, his high fever had not completely subsided.
The night grew darker and darker, like a massive vortex, as if it wanted to swallow everything.
Mu Xingye knew that escaping the Magic City was just the beginning.
It was impossible to reunite with his uncle so easily; along this journey, there might be even greater dangers.
