The temperature around him was rising, the light growing stronger. The banquet hall's dome seemed to have lost all meaning, allowing sunlight to paint the hall's distorted image across the floor.
This was definitely not a good sign. Perhaps someone from the Amaterasu Order was focusing their attention here.
But so what?
Deng Chun continued running toward the banquet hall's doors—or perhaps shuffling was a more accurate word.
Whether it was the Amaterasu Order's True God or the Pope, those were matters beyond his level of consideration. All he had to do was fulfill the requirements in the mission's Prompt Information before he was crushed to pieces... Leave the rest to the gods!
The surrounding temperature continued to rise. This time, Deng Chun felt as though he had become a wax figure. His overinflated, stiff, heavy body seemed to be melting rapidly.
At that moment, the banquet hall doors ahead burst open. There was no one outside—only a howling gale wrapped in gray-white sand and dust, roaring in and blocking the deadly sunlight overhead.
Without bothering to consider what this was or what it symbolized in the dream, Deng Chun roared again. Amid violent coughing, he crossed the banquet hall doors at a slow, nearly laughable pace and rushed into the dust-filled corridor outside.
The airship's swaying was intensifying, as if it were in an unstable flight state. Of course, it was also possible that his body in the Real World was being lifted and tossed around.
The two masks on his face were still grinding and squeezing against each other, both producing strange cracking sounds. It was impossible to tell which one would fail first and shatter... Of course, Deng Chun's face—or his entire body—might collapse first.
Beside his ear, his rotten-flesh jellyfish father was still groaning. What exactly