The massive conference hall was engulfed in complete darkness, not a single hint of light to be seen, only the pitch-black void.
Goosebumps bristled on Yang Lie's skin as he stumbled backward, but in a careless moment, he tripped over something, falling heavily to the ground.
In his panic, he instinctively swung his palm downward, striking the obstacle at his feet.
Splat~!
The thing burst open with a sound, but from its rigid texture, it was likely just a corpse of a guest.
"Ha...ha..."
The Red-haired Death God gasped for air, feeling the warmth in his palm, his mood growing increasingly irritable.
The drunken haze in his mind persisted, like a heavy shackle, firmly binding his ability to act.
The fragments from the exploding robot earlier likely carried some sort of toxin, and a potent neurotoxin at that, for in a short moment, he already sensed the sluggishness in his body.
