"Hmph, in the whole of Lincheng, anything that Fu Mou has set his sights on has yet to escape from the palm of my hand."
From within the dim room, ripples of cold laughter emerged.
Sitting leisurely on the living room sofa, Fu Qian exuded a look of complete dominance, and what he held in his hand was a bronze Human Face Helmet.
This setup, combined with his dialogue, really encapsulated the essence of an adolescent fantasy.
It wasn't intentionally done to create an atmosphere by not turning on the lights, mainly due to the poor light-blocking curtains in the living room.
If the shape of a human head were to be illuminated by light and accidentally caught sight of, it might frighten a bunch of elders who stay up late at night.
