As the dust settled, the core region of the Star Dou Forest looked like a sandbox that had been wantonly wrecked by a naughty child.
Di Tian, the Beast God who had once dominated the age and been hailed as the continent's strongest, now lay spread-eagled in a crater filled with scorched earth. The black dragon scales he had once taken such pride in now resembled chunks of burnt rice crust, crumbling away with the slightest movement. The black smoke ring drifting from his mouth lingered in the air for a long time, as though it were the final mockery of this absurd reality.
The surroundings were deathly silent.
The ferocious beasts who could ordinarily trigger a beast tide with nothing more than a sneeze—Bear Lord, Myriad Demon King, Scarlet King—were all hunched over with their necks tucked in, not even daring to breathe loudly. What they had just witnessed had shaken them more deeply than facing the Dragon God.
A cat.
A cat wearing nothing but underpants, without even a trace of Soul Power, had used a bright red paper tube to blast Di Tian, with his 890,000 years of cultivation, into this state?
It was neither scientific nor fantastical.
"Cough... cough cough..."
Di Tian laboriously rolled over, trying to prop himself up, but the vast, ocean-like power of ultimate darkness within him seemed to have been "locked" by some strange rule. The moment he tried to mobilize his Soul Power, a festive string of firecracker sounds automatically began playing in his mind, shattering his spiritual sense.
"Don't bother."
Qin Feng sat atop a large boulder, turning the can of cola in his hand. His gaze was as indifferent as if he were looking at a chicken awaiting slaughter.
"That's Tom's 'Happy New Year' rule. Until your Spring Festival