Chapter 1372: Tail
In short, back then, the Turan People had immersed themselves wholeheartedly in the ecstasy brought by one so-called "victory" after another.
Completely unaware that these "victories," won with fists, feet, blades, and swords, aided by Spirit Magnetic Material, amid fangs and claws, were merely rookies pecking at each other.
Especially when the Turan People clashed with Totem Beasts at close quarters, fighting gut-spilling battles until blood flowed like rivers and severed limbs filled the sky, Spirit Magnetic Material stimulated their cranial nerves and endocrine systems, releasing massive amounts of adrenaline and endorphins, allowing them to derive an indescribable pleasure from frenzied slaughter.
And this pleasure possessed an addiction that was extraordinarily difficult to shake off.
To put it simply and brutally, even experts in every field who had never intended to develop in the direction of "warriors" or "martial artists"—
As long as they were ambushed by Totem Beasts in some accident, forced to pick up weapons and fight, and allowed large amounts of Spirit Magnetic Material to invade their flesh and blood—
Once lightning-like pleasure pierced their brains, coiled around their spines, swept through their blood vessels and nerves, driving them to howl as they pounced into the Beast Tide and hacked vicious beasts into eight pieces—
They could never go back.
When they won, laid down their swords, and prepared to return to their original professions—
They would replay, time and again, the feeling of flashing blades and sword shadows, of being unstoppable and slaughtering in all directions.
They would feel as if ten thousand ants were crawling wildly over their skin and drilling through their veins; they would sit on the cold bench as though perched on needles, no longer able to face work they had once handled with ease but that now seemed