C327 One-eyed Hatred

When you pull out your sword, the snow will turn white on your face. The wind whistled in front of me, and the sky dimmed.

White memories, white horror, the end of the dream should have no flawless world, but why contaminated by red sludge? Ling Du suddenly realized that his enemy wasn't the person in front of him, but rather the person who had organized the competition from a high vantage point