"My—my garden!!! My plantation!!!"
The chairman of Homeland Agriculture let out a heartrending howl of grief, leaping up from the table and screaming curses and sobs at the top of his lungs.
He practically wished he could sprout wings and fight The Tuner to the death at once.
In barely a dozen seconds, countless fields, plantations, even gaudy flowers and fruits used to process illegal drugs had all been swallowed by the surging Debris Flow on the hillside.
The vast, rushing Debris Flow rampaged across the wasteland, following riverbeds that had been dry for years or carving out new tributaries, pouring endlessly into the city and flooding into the pitch-black Lower District.
But now, nobody in the conference room had the time to assess the losses caused by the Debris Flow.
Everyone stared wide-eyed, practically pressing themselves against the screens before them as they watched the rapidly descending missiles—and the figure on the ground... standing in the hurricane and gazing up at the sky.
There was not the slightest shock or confusion on his face.
His expression was calm, almost smiling.
His mottled long hair streamed in the wind.
Strands of electricity drifted through the air, illuminating his eyes with a dazzling radiance.
Wait, elec... tricity?
In that instant, someone was the first to realize it. Their body tensed as they leapt to their feet and shouted, "EMP!!!"
Crack!
With a faint muffled pop, blinding electrical light suddenly rose above the streets and swept through the city. Everywhere it passed, every light surged furiously before bursting apart.
The chips in every machine burned out under the overloaded current, leaving only foul black smoke drifting from the cracks.
Under the blazing sunlight, even the air seemed to glimmer with specks of dreamlike light.
It was countless tiny scraps of aluminum foil