Escape

He should still be alive, right?

Lin Fan removed his helmet and carefully examined Konrad Curze's face. Just as he was about to pry open his throat and puke some Old Tang into him, he noticed the pure white dome trembling violently.

The sky was falling. Countless white streaks plunged downward like rain, all locked onto Konrad Curze.

Lin Fan did not think he could keep Konrad Curze safe amid so many white streaks, so he removed his armor.

Although Konrad Curze had thought the armor incomparably sturdy, when Lin Fan took it off, it was no different from a soft leather cover.

"Brother, I hope you don't suffocate in there."

Lin Fan gave the armor, now like a leather cover, two shakes, then kneaded and folded it into a strip before swiftly wrapping it around Konrad Curze's head.

This should do it.

Satisfied with his handiwork, Lin Fan picked up the stiff Konrad Curze. From afar, he looked like he was carrying a white refrigerator several times larger than himself.

The white streaks came rushing in. Some were blocked by Lin Fan, while others stabbed at the green armor-cover wrapped around Konrad Curze's head.

Unable to pierce through it, they simply gathered together, preparing to completely envelop Konrad Curze. The crimson sea was tainted white, and countless creations projected from bygone ages rose to the surface.

Titans, Necrontyr legions, Aeldari arks, ancient Ork warriors—they all looked menacing, and it was obvious that they were after Konrad Curze in Lin Fan's hands.

He could fight them, but there was no need. How much time would it take to kill all this stuff?

Perhaps it was even worse than that. These illusory projections were endless, and they would not disappear until they captured Konrad Curze again.

Lin Fan fled while carrying