"The lackey of 'that' master."
The largest "World Ship" resembled a face, with two spots igniting cold red lights, like a pair of pupils.
"Why have you come?"
The barrier on the surface of another World Ship similarly lit up with red light.
Then.
All the World Ships turned into terrifying faces.
They all stared with the same cold gaze at the distant "Barrel" that had come.
Fizzing sounds.
On the Barrel.
A phantom light emerged, condensing into an elegant figure.
The owner of the "Barrel" had smooth purple skin. On a faceless face, two slits opened, the slits transformed from elongated to rounded, pitch-black, like two boiled eggs placed on that smooth and delicate face.
If Yi Lin were here, they would surely recognize the one driving the "Barrel" as a friend they met once in hell—"Hell's Mixologist" Uluru.
Red glowing points, like a group of creatures in the ocean, surrounded the Barrel.
Uluru's face turned even more purple, snorting coldly, somewhat displeased.
