Coleman strode forward, about to greet them, but the figures in iridescent cloaks paid him no heed whatsoever. They simply brushed past him and hurried along the winding White Shell Road toward an hourglass-shaped building in the southeast.
Coleman called after them several times, but they acted as though they had not heard him. They never looked back, much less answered.
"They will not even spare us a glance. Are the employees here all this cold?" Coleman watched their retreating backs, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Or could it be..."
Before Coleman could finish, a figure clad in pitch-black armor suddenly shot out—Satan's iron-tower body thundered past, making the shell road crackle beneath his feet.
"You sons of bitches! Did you not hear your daddy calling?" Satan's broken-gong voice tore through the air, and lingering scorched smoke leaked from the gaps in his armor. "Stop right there! Keep running and see if I do not burn you to death!"
Satan's curses did make the group pause for a moment, but that was all. Their feet never stopped moving; instead, they picked up their pace, as though Satan had frightened them.
Seeing that they not only ignored him but hastened farther away, Satan's inner flames burned even hotter.
He bent slightly at the knees and began to gather strength.
In barely a second, grayish-white smoke was already billowing from his helmet, while his leg armor had swollen by an entire size.
The next moment, as if he had ignited boosters, he became an afterimage, caught up to the group, and blocked their path outright.
Blazing fire poured from the gaps in his gauntlets. Whoever dared come close, he would burn.
The group still did not speak. They apparently had no intention of fighting Satan either, merely trying to quickly circle around