"The world outside is truly magnificent."
The Emperor was emotionally stirred, his vital energy surging, "Leaving behind the epitaphs of our Martial Arts World, that being known as Fist returned to the world of Apocalypse just a few days ago."
Pffft.
Suddenly, he spewed blood profusely, soaking through the handkerchief; the blood dripped onto the floor, dyeing it red.
"Who are you?"
A few people rushed in from the rooftop door, likely the armed security of this building.
These mortals looked at the sickly young man in ancient-style white garments and then cast a glance at the blood on the ground, feeling as if a thousand great Daos were contained within, causing them dizziness and vertigo.
The blood seemed to hold countless starry skies, their brains exploding in a roar.
Poof.
In an instant, they collapsed unconscious on the ground.
"Mortals cannot behold this." The Emperor shook his head and twisted the handkerchief.
