The man's expression was filled with confusion. He seemed to find it unbelievable—could this woman before him truly know nothing, only the single word "mist"?
'Is she for real, or is this an act?'
But looking at her beautiful face, filled with such pure, innocent confusion, it seemed she genuinely knew nothing of the world of terror.
'Is she just another poor soul who wandered into the mist by mistake?'
'And this particular poor soul just happens to be beautiful and possess immense strength?'
The man wanted to believe it, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was strange.
He just couldn't put his finger on what it was.
It was simply his sixth sense telling him so.
Wen Ying shook her head honestly, indicating she truly didn't know.
This time, she wasn't lying. She really was in the dark.
Although she hadn't wandered into the mist by mistake, it was close enough.
