Survivors

Like dumplings dropping into a pot...

Countless Moyus poured into this Nen Space all at once.

This bizarre phenomenon directly stunned Defo.

Even with the advantage of terrain entirely on his side, Defo had no idea what was happening for the moment.

Although he had already learned some information from his companions beforehand.

The scene unfolding before his eyes was simply too outrageous, utterly overturning his understanding.

Piyon was also rendered speechless by the shock.

She silently looked at Moyu beside her, then cut off his attempt to distance himself from the matter with a dry chuckle.

"If I die here, then before I breathe my last, you'll probably be all I can see and think about."

As she watched the countless Moyus flood into this Nen Space, the excitement Piyon had felt over Chairman Netero's arrival had completely vanished.

She felt—

Before Chairman Netero dealt with the source, she would be drowned by Moyu's army first.

"Piyon, where did you learn such a cheesy pickup line?"

Moyu casually teased her, then turned a thoughtful gaze toward the Shadow Clones that were still continuously emerging.

It was too absurd, too exaggerated.

This phenomenon was just too out of place.

Even the ability of a Post-Mortem Relic couldn't possibly achieve something on this scale, could it?

Moyu had noticed a few clues.

Piyon drooped her eyelids and said dejectedly, "Pickup line or not, I can already imagine what's going to happen next. I really can't accept this!!!"

"..."

Moyu glanced at the increasingly pessimistic Piyon, unsure what to say.

The tens of thousands of clones pouring in all at once had indeed made their situation extremely dangerous.

It was easy to foresee—

The two of them would most likely be beaten to death by the clones that had suddenly appeared.

Piyon