第二章 双生武魂

头还是疼得要命，像是有无数根针在扎。秦明 sparse open his eyes again, the dim room making his vision blurry. He was lying on a rustic wooden bed, the air thick with the smell of dust and decay. The walls were cracked and peeling, revealing the dark clay underneath. It looked like something out of a haunted house. He tried to sit up but found his limbs weak. He groaned and reached for the edge of the bed, pulling himself up slowly. The room was small, no more than ten feet by ten. There was a rickety wooden table against one wall, covered in dust, and a small, grimy window with bars that let in only slivers of light. "Where... where am I?" he muttered, his voice hoarse from disuse. He had no memory of ending up in such a place. His last coherent memory was of... he shook his head, trying to clear the fog. Nothing. He stumbled to the window and pushed aside the bars. The view outside was grim. He was on the outskirts of a small village, the houses all looking as dilapidated as his current abode. A few children were playing in the mud nearby, their laughter distant and muffled.