The evil souls of these people had been wantonly trampled, torn apart, and remade. They were as fragile as blocks of soft tofu.
Or rather, as cheap as worthless goods.
Such wanton acts and methods of changing others did not make Wu Heng feel particularly excited, nor did they bring him the slightest pleasure.
Instead, they gave rise to an inexplicable loneliness. He was no longer of the same race as these humans; indeed, there was no one in this world who could compare to him.
Perhaps the only one capable of opposing him was that Creator.
Yet compared to the other's peculiar life form and enormous size, Wu Heng felt it was more like an ignorant beast.
Like a human facing a lumbering elephant.
Though it was immense, before Wu Heng, who already possessed "firearms," it was still so utterly unimpressive.
He would never regard it as the same kind of creature.
Even if he desperately needed its flesh and blood right now! To him, it was still prey, not a fellow traveler.
He was hunting it; it was an object he had to plunder.
After Wu Heng finished modifying these soul bodies, they had completely turned into numb, walking-corpse-like souls.
He raised his right hand.
The thirty million Blood Floss souls flew into his palm, shrinking to an extreme degree. Then mist-like particles emerged from within his body.
They deeply assimilated these altered, numb souls.
The domain in his palm spun rapidly.
The souls were kneaded into a ball about the size of a goose egg.
With a thought from Wu Heng, they split into three portions. Each was only slightly larger than a quail egg, like a miniature chicken egg.
Their surfaces were dark and exceptionally smooth, with a jade-like chill that penetrated to the core when