"Gah?"
King Ghidorah, who had been laughing wildly at the sky, froze. Even with three heads, it could not figure out why this had happened.
The toy had been fine, but after it looked away for just a moment, how had it vanished? All that remained was a cloud of thick green mist.
But nobody could answer it. Only dead silence remained amid the collapsed city ruins. Even the corpses that would have bubbled as they sank were gone, replaced by black ash floating on the sea.
Under the effects of the highly toxic acid, ordinary human bodies simply could not withstand such corrosion. Still, this counted as a mercy from Deathstroke, sparing them from lying dead in the wilderness after the tsunami receded.
"Eep?"
"Well, it wasn't exactly leaving no remains behind. There's still ash, isn't there? I'll have the Great Liches collect the victims' souls later and compensate them by letting them reincarnate in a peaceful world. Let them become Americans over in the Dark Tower. They'll be happy and proud of it. After all, everyone knows Australian politicians love America the most."
Su Ming lay down, stroking the gold-laden scales. After assigning work to the Council of the Sky, he said to Strangle, "Anyway, whenever King Ghidorah wants to play, spit some phlegm at it so it can't. Then it'll have no choice but to obediently go find Godzilla."
Sure enough, just as Su Ming had expected, the city was destroyed and King Ghidorah had nothing left to play with. All three of its heads drooped as though it had run out of power.
The middle head sighed, the left head cursed under its breath, and the right head remained silent.
A moment later, it beat its wings and took off, preparing to find somewhere else to