A bird, struck by a freak accident, fell flapping its wings. It struggled to right itself, but crashed straight into the window of a building.
SPLAT!
An ugly smear of blood was left on the window.
'Damn it, I've interfered with history again.'
Mo Ling quickly flew toward the window, wanting to see what kind of impact he had caused.
But when he reached the window, he saw the three people inside the room staring at each other.
The captain, the doctor, and a young Old Xu.
'It happened again.'
'It had an effect, and yet it didn't.'
This strange feeling appeared in Mo Ling's heart once more, and he quickly controlled the Block to pull away.
A sense of fated helplessness began to erupt from within him again.
'It's the same feeling again.'
It was like some kind of protective mechanism of history. It caused anyone who interfered to feel an indescribable urge to flee, forcing them to stay away and stop influencing its course.
