Bang.
Sun Lingtong charged headlong into the Paper General, only to feel as if he crashed into a wall, leaving himself dizzy and his soul trembling.
"Ouch, ouch, ouch!"
Sun Lingtong grimaced in pain. After a moment, his soul settled, and his countenance returned to its original vividness.
"What's going on?" Sun Lingtong immediately sensed something was amiss.
He cautiously extended his lotus-like arm, pressing it against the Paper General's chest, which felt as solid as stone.
Ning Zhuo, observing everything through their soul connection, commented, "Boss, take it easy. This isn't some setup; it's likely because your soul cultivation level isn't enough. You're not a Soul Cultivator. If I had known, I would have given you some Netherworld Cuisine."
