"This feeling..."
Tuberculosis Rabbit pulled out his Tang Blade and glanced at the wound on his left hand with a hint of confusion in his eyes.
It was as if he had been wounded like this before.
Yet, in his memory, his left hand had never suffered such a severe injury—why then did it feel so familiar?
But at that moment.
The sound of the Tang Blade cleaving through the air from behind was already ringing beside his ear. There was no time to ponder these trivial matters, as Tuberculosis Rabbit took a deep breath and pushed his body to its peak condition.
A clumsy somersault dodged that strike.
He then casually wrapped his shirt around his left hand for an extremely rudimentary bandage. There was no time to worry about infections. What was most crucial was preserving his left hand's maximum fighting ability.
...
"Hey."