This monstrous insect had actually flown all the way beyond the atmosphere. It no longer needed to breathe; a special organ sac had formed inside its body, whose sole purpose was to continuously decompose matter and produce methane.
Inside the monstrous insect was a mass of flesh.
It was one of Tomie's hearts, corroded until it was riddled with holes, constantly releasing methane to provide the insect with power.
At the same time, it was continuously recovering, generating new flesh and thus becoming inexhaustible.
Wu Heng turned to look in another direction. He saw flesh, bones, and monstrous insects piled together, like a structure built into a tower of flesh and insects.
It extended continuously from the ground into the sky, and at a glance, it actually reached beyond the atmosphere.
This was a stairway of flesh, insect monsters, and grotesque bones rising into the heavens—simply an aggregation of absurdity and terror.
Wu Heng could even see Tomie's face within a rotting chunk of flesh embedded in it. Her body had completely mutated, with more than a dozen arms, stretched as thin as noodles and tangled within the mass, crushed out of shape.
She still cast her seductive eyes in every direction, occasionally opening her mouth to ambush and bite at the monstrous insects crawling and flying up along her body toward the top of this bizarre stairway of flesh.
The sharp, blade-like limbs of those monstrous insects pierced through face after face of Tomie without hesitation as they climbed upward. They cared neither for the fragile girls' pained screams nor for that strange allure.
It seemed that after surviving in this world for so long, they had developed some sort of resistance.
This was practically an abyss of flesh.
Tomie's regeneration, combined with the reproduction of these monstrous insects,