"What's this chilly thing," Shalman felt a coolness on her chest and looked down.
At that glance, her face slightly changed. A white meat worm as thick as a thumb, plump and dotted with sesame-size eyes drooling saliva, was lying on her bosom.
Atop its head sat a trademark, chrysanthemum-shaped birthmark, and at that moment it was ceaselessly wriggling its insect body against Shalman's chest, its sesame-sized eyes filled with a light of supreme sleaziness.
Luckily, Shalman came from a background of raising Dark Insects; had it been an ordinary woman, she would have turned pale with fright and screamed her lungs out already.
Shalman remained calm, flicked her finger and said with a hint of anger, "What's this hairy caterpillar, daring to take liberties with me?"
