The Rim Shook.
Not like thunder.
Like a god's erection slamming into the crust of the world, explosions blossomed overhead, Ye An's rage carving flaming scars through the earth, Beibei's lightning shrieks splitting the skies like heaven's thighs parting in divine hysteria.
And below it all... Su Xiaobai stood still.
Satisfied, hands covered with blood.
An writhing black orb, ozzing dark miasma, still shivering like a fetus left in a womb too long, twisted in his palm.
It whimpered.
He slapped it.
"Whimper one more time, and I'll shove you so deep in Beibei's cloaca you'll beg to be refined into fertilizer."
The orb went still.
Behind him, roots slashed, not elegant vines, not divine lotus strands.
Cursed limbs.
Hundreds of them.
Veined with black mist, shaped like dismembered arms stolen from sinners. They lashed out in every direction, slicing, tearing, raping the air, with murder-lust, carving down the filth birthed from the ruptured cadavers of two fallen Marshals.
