King Ghidorah had not come. Instead, Godzilla and Mothra had arrived. Russell closed his eyes and withdrew his telepathy, releasing his control over the soldiers in the stadium and telling them to get lost while they still knew what was good for them.
If a fight broke out later, with Godzilla's size and nearly one hundred thousand tons of weight, one roll on the ground would be more than enough to crush an ordinary person.
Chaos continued across the stadium. The soldiers looked up, spotted the two Titan Beasts, and immediately turned around and ran.
"Roar, roar, roar—"
Godzilla sensed something unusual. It lowered its head and roared, then fixed its beady eyes on Russell atop the building, hot air blasting from its nostrils as if it wanted to exchange a few moves.
Only as if. Its feet were rooted to the ground, and it did not move an inch.
That was understandable. Men were all like that. With their girlfriends watching nearby, they could lose anything except face.
Russell curled his lip, silently mocking Godzilla for stubbornly keeping up appearances, then flipped into the broadcasting room.
He shut down ORCA's sonar broadcast. Godzilla and Mothra were not mission targets, so killing them brought no benefit and would only let Ghidorah reap the rewards.
Just as Russell had expected, once the sonar was shut off, Godzilla threw back its head and roared. Its tiny eyes squeezed toward Mothra, and then it shook its head, swayed its tail, and headed back toward the coastline.
The big fluttering moth probably had no idea what was going on. It flapped its wings blankly in place for a while before finally turning around and chasing after Godzilla.
Russell shook his head repeatedly. Matters between men and women apparently applied to monsters too. Men who