Just as Meng Chao roared inwardly.
Among the hundreds upon thousands of Main Perspective images surrounding him, roughly one-tenth began to tremble slightly.
Like a stone tossed into a pond, sending ring after ring of ripples spreading outward.
Meng Chao could clearly sense the owners of these Main Perspective images blinking rapidly as bewildered voices rose from the depths of their hearts:
"Who—who is talking?"
Meng Chao froze.
"You... can hear my voice?"
Though it was utterly absurd, Meng Chao still tested the waters.
The Main Perspective images continued to quiver, clear one moment and blurred the next, like windows covered in raindrops.
"Who? Who exactly is it?"
Meng Chao seemed to hear voices tangled with shock and confusion coming simultaneously from thousands of channels in every direction.
The Main Perspective images spun frantically.
Clearly, the owners of these perspectives were swiftly turning their heads, searching all around like startled birds, trying to find whoever was speaking to them.
But no matter how hard they tried, they found nothing.
Because no one could imagine that the voice originated directly from deep within their brain regions.
More precisely, it came from the sky, pierced through their skulls, and bored into their central nervous systems.
Yet when Meng Chao tried to convey something clearer and more complex.
He felt as though he had plunged tens of thousands of meters beneath the sea, trying to transmit sound waves through hundreds of millions of tons of seawater and pressure sufficient to crush a Main Battle Tank into an iron pancake.
No matter how hoarsely he shouted, the sound waves that finally reached the Main Perspective images had already become fragmented and muddled, like the buzzing babble made by an insect beating its wings.
At most, the owners of these Main Perspective images could hear