Fang Mo had always wanted to test the limits of the Void Ring.
And now, he had finally figured it out: even after lifting half a Helicarrier, the thing still had power to spare.
Fang Mo had no idea how much the thing beneath his feet actually weighed, but judging by the Helicarrier's apparent size, his earlier guess had indeed been correct.
The Void Ring's output was incredibly high.
It was no weaker than Deva Path Pain under Nagato's full control.
The only thing that disappointed Fang Mo was that his control over the Gravity Field seemed terribly imprecise.
Fang Mo had read plenty of novels in his previous life. The characters in them practically played gravity like a fiddle—either controlling a single needle to pierce all things, or using less than a few kilograms of force to interfere with the microscopic world, knead singularities with their bare hands, and distort space-time.
Yet after actually trying it himself, Fang Mo could only say...
What the hell kind of nonsense was that?
It was not as though those techniques were complete bullshit. In theory, they really were possible; the problem was simply that the precision required was far too extreme.
How should he put it?
It was like forcing a giant to pinch an embroidery needle with his fingernail, then making him concentrate every ounce of his strength onto that one needle.
If it could truly be done, then the needle's power would indeed be unstoppable—breaking a surface with a single point and slaughtering everything in its path.
But the truth was, all the giants could only say, "I can't do it."
Without some relevant Golden Finger, forget giants—even humans could not pinch a needle between their fingers and apply all their strength to it. If someone insisted their fingers would