The wind blew, and the clouds drifted listlessly.
Planes flew past nearby, but he was nowhere to be seen.
An Yang closed his eyes in meditation, waiting quietly.
London gradually entered the night. At this altitude, the city of London was a dense blanket of lights; though the famous London Eye could not be seen, it was charming enough on its own.
In an instant, An Yang received a message.
He flipped over and stood up, looked to the right, took a step forward, and immediately plummeted downward toward the ground.
"Whoosh!"
An Yang's figure kept dropping, the cold wind howling past his ears, and soon he landed in this city that never slept.
What came into view was an abandoned factory, pitch black.
This factory must have been abandoned for a long time; not only had it lost its lights, but all equipment and facilities had also been completely cleared out. What remained here now was just an empty shell, and presumably all the steel that could be moved had been carried away by vagrants.
An Yang landed lightly on the ground, making not a sound.
The dark doorway of the factory was like a demon's giant maw, swallowing anything that walked inside, and a translucent phantom hovered quietly by the door, guarding the entrance.
It was this phantom that had just transmitted the message back, stating that this place possessed both spatial chaos and a reversed gravitational field.
With just a single glance at the factory, An Yang knew he had come to the right place, so he immediately straightened his body and chanted an incantation under his breath, recalling all the floating phantoms and issuing retrieval commands to all the mechanical eyes.
He then walked toward the pitch-black interior of the factory.
"Clarity Technique!"
With a brush,