Chapter 285: His Soul Wounded, His Hidden Trump Cards!

Thankfully, that living-hell sensation came fast and left just as quickly. Stefan Zimmerman tore himself out of it in an instant. Even so, his soul was webbed with cracks. It had taken a brutal hit. Huff, huff! He lay sprawled in the cabin, eyes unfocused, dragging in huge gulps of air. Every inch of him felt wrong, as if his body had turned to lead. Worst of all was his soul. It felt like it might split apart at any moment. That was the kind of terror that made your blood run cold. If his soul...