Little Lecher's vines tested the seawater with obvious distaste, then found a spot where the corrosive smell was less intense and plunged down to take root.
Through the Water Shield, Dongfang Minghui saw ten merfolk. Strangely, they floated lightly in the sea without even swishing their tails. Something very familiar was tied around their wrists: net straps. The net was golden, and the lingering purple lightning still crackled through the seawater, yet the merfolk seemed completely unaffected.
Qian Wanyu was trapped in the very center, the nets wound around her. The surrounding merfolk kept closing in, trying to capture the person inside.
Seventh Sister.
Silver needles flew from Dongfang Minghui's hands, shooting into the merfolk nearest her. She wanted to draw their attention to herself. To her surprise, that merfolk neither dodged nor reacted at all.
"That one is one of the living dead."
The moment Little Lecher's vines touched the lightning beneath the sea, they shuddered twice in exquisite agony. They threaded through the water, splitting into numerous strands that secretly wound around the merfolk's waists from every direction, then pulled hard, forcing them apart again.
This golden net was indeed different from the earlier one. It had been refined from some kind of soft metal, nothing like the net that the tip of the Water-Thunder Whip had torn with a light hook. Caught off guard, Qian Wanyu had been pinned in its center.
Fortunately, Little Lecher's vines quickly pulled everyone apart, stretching the golden net wide open.
Qian Wanyu seized the opportunity to spin around. Her Water-Thunder Whip struck the nearest merfolk, successfully snapping their neck, and she caught one corner of the golden net. Purple lightning and dark spiritual power raced through it toward the others.
The remaining nine merfolk did not react at all. The merfolk