Half-asleep, Meng Chen suddenly felt a burst of killing intent stab at him, sharp as a blade amid ice and snow—bone-chillingly cold, yet fiercely cutting!
It pierced straight into his soul even more harshly than a Fruit Phone ringtone, jolting Meng Chen fully awake.
When he sat up, he discovered that he was still gripping the Atlas Spear.
Just as described in the original work, a white marking had appeared on the Atlas Spear.
The aura within it was enough to make one tremble.
But Meng Chen had no time to inspect the changes to the Atlas Spear. He followed the source of that killing intent with his gaze and saw the King of Slaughter.
The King of Slaughter floated toward him bit by bit. He moved slowly, yet exerted even greater psychological pressure.
He seemed to be deliberately announcing his presence with that slow pace and overwhelming killing intent.
Hatred overflowed from his blood-red eyes. Set against the killing intent surrounding him, that hatred was just as sharp, as though it could slice someone into a thousand pieces at any moment.
"You're awake." The King of Slaughter's tone held both hatred and admiration. "I have never met anyone as troublesome as you. You were even more troublesome than the previous two Slaughter Gods. When they crossed Hell Road, they did not encounter as many variables as you did, nor did they leave me with so many memorable 'details.'"
When he said "details," the King of Slaughter deliberately stressed the word.
Meng Chen nearly laughed aloud. He understood that the King of Slaughter's so-called details referred to the middle finger he had raised.
"What? Wasn't that what you deserved? You secretly put so many obstacles in my way. You didn't want me to make it through Hell Road, did you?