"Little Li, your pants are a bit loose. You should pull them up."
Wu De smiled as he patted Little Li on the shoulder.
Little Li was overjoyed and cupped his fists. "Thank you for the promotion, Chairman Wu."
Wu De chuckled. "No, I mean your pants are actually a little loose... Huh? Why does it seem like something's moving?"
He stared blankly at Little Li's pants. It seemed as though snakes were writhing inside, pushing the fabric loose.
His gaze dropped, and when it reached the pant legs, Wu De's pupils suddenly contracted!
Hundreds of scarlet threads as thin as hair crawled out from the pant legs, inching their way into his own.
He leaped backward as if shocked. Rip!
"Ah!" Wu De groaned as he felt something tear away his leg hair and flesh.
Drops of dark red blood trickled down his calves, soaking his socks and leather shoes.
Hundreds of scarlet threads wriggled soundlessly across the expensive carpet, bits of flesh still clinging to their tips.
"You..."
Wu De looked up in horror at Little Li, only to discover with terror that Little Li's formerly fawning face had already become expressionless.
His eyes were covered by scarlet threads, as though someone had sewn them shut with red thread!
His face was deathly pale. Beneath skin so white it was nearly transparent, scarlet threads squirmed like parasites.
"Pseudo-Human!! How is this possible!?" Wu De went pale with fright.
Only then did he realize that even power could fail.
Power had boundaries, just like imperial authority in ancient times.
Within ten paces, within the realm—there lay the boundary of imperial authority.
Wu De's power had the same boundary: within ten paces, within Apocalypse.
Once a Pseudo-Human entered within ten paces, the power he had been so proud of became