"Ow!"
That was all Luo Ji felt.
And the pain didn't just affect his body; it reached into his mind as well.
Frederick Taylor's "Psykana Shriek" carried the seething malice of the Warp. Like a red-hot iron spike, it plunged into the depths of Luo Ji's mind, scorching him with its heat. The agony of having his soul torn apart made him wish he were dead.
He struggled to get up, but the moment he pushed himself upright with both arms, he saw a pair of... chicken feet?
Oh, no. They weren't "chicken feet," but clearly the feet of a bird, with slender legs that bent noticeably backward!
Then, without warning, his opponent lifted a foot and kicked him hard in the face, as if taking a shot at goal.
Thud!
The force of the kick nearly knocked him unconscious.
Luo Ji flew through the air like a kite with its strings cut, tracing an arc before slamming into a pillar and crashing to the ground.
The impact left him in agony, his back arched like a shrimp.
Footsteps approached. It was Frederick Taylor, holding the Trisolaran leader in one hand as he strolled toward Luo Ji, unhurried. His completely asymmetrical face, its features twisted out of shape, wore a mocking sneer.
"Heh... You're so naïve, Luo Ji."
Frederick Taylor stopped in front of him and looked down, his eyelids lowered, his gaze full of contempt. He regarded Luo Ji like a lowly ant struggling to survive in the dirt. "Do you remember two hundred years ago? I already told you then that you... weren't suited to be a Wallfacer. Did you think I didn't know what you were planning?"
"Cough, cough..."
Blood bubbled up in Luo Ji's throat, and he couldn't stop coughing.
Frederick Taylor's voice came from above