The Taotie Scripture froze. Too bad it had no eyes—otherwise, you would have seen them bulging wider than lanterns right now.
It—had sensed something?
It had sensed Taotie fluctuations!
Of course, Taoties still existed in this world. As one of the Four Ancient Fiends, it would not die. Indeed, whenever calamity descended, it and the other three would appear and wreak havoc upon all living beings. In a sense, they were already part of disaster itself.
What shocked it was not the appearance of Taotie aura fluctuations, but the distance from which they came.
Very close!
Or rather, right beside it. Or rather, in the hand of that damned paramecium gripping the upper half of its body and refusing to let go.
At this moment, an extremely faint, unformed ripple was spilling out from within that hand, and it caught it.
It was dumbfounded. The scripture itself could not help twisting, as though turning its head, to look at the fellow holding it.
At that moment, Li Su's gaze was vacant, his pupils seemingly unfocused. They were filled with the patterns he had seen upon the Taotie Scripture, flashing and glowing.
In fact, it was not just Li Su. The other nine were much the same. Their minds had been hooked by the Taotie Scripture, and they could not help sinking into it, falling into that boundless, vast ocean and rising and falling within it.
Of course, this was not comprehension.
It could not be helped—the Taotie Scripture stood too high, as high as an eighty- or ninety-story building. If someone on the first floor wanted to look at it, they could only crane their neck straight up. There was no other choice.
This kind of immersion was actually meaningless. It was no more than drowning in the ocean; there