Chapter 12: A Greatsword Flew Out Of The Fog
Instead of producing colors and miniature explosions inside the vial, the contact between his blood and the black substance produced... nothing.
That’s right. The red blood turned colorless, and as if influenced by its change, the black liquid began to turn gray. Smoothly, steadily, both liquids formed an ashen mixture. And that was where the changes stopped.
Blinking in confusion, Han Xuhan looked at Lao Jun’s face, only to realize that the old man was staring back at him with a look of abject horror.
"Fuck! Get the fuck away from me!"
Lao Jun screeched in a shrill tone, while leaping away so fast that his feet left holes in the soil. It was as if he was trying to escape death itself!
Han Xuhan turned towards Xuanyuan Zhou for an explanation, but she was doing the same thing, backtracking with her hands held up in a defensive posture.
Even the audience, the most enthusiastic participants in the mob, followed suit. Before he could form a response to their inexplicable reaction, a radius of thirty meters around him was cleared up.
What did the ancestry test reveal? Why did it terrify them? Did everyone except him understand the implications of the mixture?
Before he could voice his innocent inquiry, Lao Jun pulled out a small pipe from his pocket and blew on it hard, his gaze fixed on Han Xuhan like a hawk.