"Fire!"
"Use the blood symbol bullet!"
"Quick, fire now!"
The black cat's screams echoed inside the massive maw, making Zheng Qing's eardrums buzz.
To avoid those crisscrossed fangs, it had shrunk its body to the size of a foal, forcing Zheng Qing and Jiang Yu to cling tightly together to avoid falling off the cat's back.
On ordinary days, this somewhat ambiguous sitting position might have led to something happening in a slightly romantic atmosphere. At the very least, Zheng Qing's cheeks would turn as red as a baboon's butt, and his head would steam like a boiling kettle.
But at present, the massive spiral maw, having gorged on enough food, was now contentedly contracting inward. The interlocking fangs spun like the blades of a crusher, moving, rotating, and exuding a bone-chilling aura above everyone's heads.
