Atatatatata—!!
It was dark, yet things were visible. There was no air moving, yet breathing was possible. Time could not be felt passing... This was the Dimensional Rift.
Amid a cluster of terrain resembling shattered, floating islands, an agile figure darted across one of the islands.
He had a distinctive name: Fish Ball Qiang.
The cries of "atatatata" were, clearly, coming from Fish Ball Qiang.
He wielded nunchaku made from two unidentified bones of roughly equal length, and wore a little white tank top, baggy shorts, and... slippers.
Behind Fish Ball Qiang lay over a hundred corpses of Void Origin Demons of varying sizes—only Void Origin Demons, of course, with none of the higher-ranking varieties. If any of those appeared, he could only flee in his slippers.
"Could you stop making those weird noises?" Not far away, a young man who looked lazy and utterly cavalier scratched an itch and asked through a yawn.
It's nostalgia! What the hell do you know?
Even so, Fish Ball Qiang tucked his bone nunchaku under his arm, approached the young man, and humbly bowed his head. "Master Musashi."
If he went back now, he could not only shout, "I'll take on ten!" but take on a hundred without a problem—yet he still could not beat Musashi.
Even if Musashi lay motionless without fighting back, he could not break through his defenses. In fact, a single plucked nose hair from Musashi might pierce his body at any moment—that was how hardcore he was!
Fish Ball Qiang had no idea how long he had been in this damned place. It felt like only a few days had passed, yet also like an eternity... He had even begun to miss his fish ball noodle stall.
"Master Musashi, I don't think the Void Origin Demons here are