Yanfu.
The dark clouds churned like a rolling sea of ink. Thick and heavy, they blotted out the sky and sun, constantly roiling under the gale as they pressed down upon the earth.
Thunder rumbled ceaselessly within the sea of clouds.
Boom after boom exploded across the horizon. The earth trembled beneath the thunderous roar.
Lightning lashed the mortal world like the whip of a furious god. Blinding flashes tore through the pitch-black sky, intermittently illuminating the darkened land.
The rain poured in torrents.
It was red.
Like fresh blood, enormous raindrops pounded everything on the ground, sending countless splashes flying.
The bloody splashes were like tears of blood shed by the heavens. They quickly gathered into raging currents across the ground, flooding the land and washing everything away.
Trees swayed helplessly in the gale, their branches and leaves ruthlessly stripped away. Flowers, grass, and trees let out mournful cries beneath the violent storm.
The dilapidated buildings, already in ruins, gradually collapsed under the storm's assault, completely reduced to rubble.
In such dreadful weather, most living creatures chose to lie low.
Yet some creatures were still moving.
In a ruined ancient city, buildings collapsed with a roar—not because of the storm, but because a plump figure was charging straight ahead, smashing everything blocking his path to pieces.
He was a fat man, his body as massive as a mountain of flesh. As he ran, waves of fat rolled and churned in layers.
Whenever those waves of flesh rose, black light wriggled at his navel like a little bug, forming a strange pattern.
The fat man had no idea how many buildings he had smashed when he suddenly shrieked.
His voice was sharp and high-pitched, like that of a little girl.
The fat on the left side of his body suddenly