The red and green lights crisscrossed across the sky, unleashing bursts of piercing sounds that tore through the air.
It was like a life-and-death speed race game unfolding.
Cheng Jiashu, leaning against the door frame, watched in wide-eyed amazement.
He gaped in astonishment, muttering to himself:
"What is this? Whack-a-mole?"
"Are you stupid?!"
Jiang Chen shouted furiously:
"I said it's useless, so it is! Doing this only wastes your efforts, give it up!"
Dozens of shadow clones roared in unison, their voices converging, like thunder, causing debris on the hall to tremble constantly.
Fang Cheng turned a deaf ear, his gaze more focused than ever.
He stepped forward, and with a powerful slam of his hands on the ground.
The ground instantly shattered, sending dozens of spears and corpses soaring into the air.
Fang Cheng moved like lightning, his hands catching those spears like a storm.
