Zheng Qing had blown himself up once before.
In the magical sense.
That self-destruction had destroyed a Small World and blown apart two projections that had descended from the depths of the Starry Sky. Its power had been immense. After returning from Mr. Wu's little teapot, Zheng Qing had secretly tried many times to recapture the feeling of that "self-destruction."
Of course, he was not the sort of pessimistic, world-weary person who wanted to die just because he had a Forbidden Curse hanging over him.
He merely wanted to be prepared for the worst-case scenario.
What if some Outer God disregarded all propriety, bullied the small with the big, and suddenly appeared before him? What if radicals from the Dark Council or the Under the Moon Council used their strength to oppress the weak, secretly abducted him, and wanted to slice him up for research? What if he suddenly encountered an enemy he could not resist?
Like now.
If he had mastered a way to "self-destruct," then at least he would not be completely unable to fight back.
Yet no matter how hard he strained, until his cheeks turned purple and the magic within him boiled like water, he still could not find that feeling he had experienced in the Small World.
But it was like the key you wanted to find before leaving home. When you were searching for it, you could not find it no matter what, yet when you had nearly given up, it would suddenly appear in your sight by accident.
Zheng Qing saw that "key" now.
The feeling of "self-destruction" he had sought so many times suddenly came upon him without warning. Nikita's two heavy punches seemed like a catalyst, making him feel as though he might explode at any moment—and filling him with the