Wu Heng could feel that, if he wished, releasing even a tiny trace of the "trait" within him—something that did not conform to this world's rules—would be enough to crush this space as easily as stepping on a soap bubble, annihilating it along with the pretentious figure of light before him.
But doing so would immediately expose his deepest secret, drawing attention and trouble far beyond the current scale. He had come here to make use of this story world to digest his traits, perhaps even acquire more.
So now was not the time.
He closed his eyes and, like a precision instrument, silently began analyzing, recording, and replicating the omnipresent holy power of Heaven around him.
This was a good opportunity to understand the enemy.
Yes, whether Heaven or Hell, from the moment Wu Heng entered this story world, they had all become his enemies.
Because what Wu Heng intended to do was bound to run contrary to them.
Wu Heng sat cross-legged on the ground. For now, he would try to use the powers within this world's story while remaining within reasonable bounds.
Waiting for the Winchester Brothers, who always managed to create "miracles," to help him escape did not seem like a bad choice either.
Like a spy who had infiltrated the deepest part of an enemy camp, he enjoyed the dangerous calm as he coolly deciphered their codes.
Perhaps they were the real prey.
Outside.
The night wind at Kaiser Cliff carried the lingering stench of blood and sulfur, blowing across Dean and Sam's faces, yet it was not as cold as their hearts at that moment.
The two crashed heavily onto the icy ground. The holy yet terrifying vortex of white light before them had already vanished, as though everything that had just happened had