The swarm of micro-larvae struck like a wave of black grease.
Thousands of needle-toothed parasites hit Lu Chen’s torso, their hard-shelled jaws biting into his oiled trousers and the hemp wrapping of his forearms.
They were engineered to burrow through three inches of horsehide in half a breath.
Lu Chen didn’t slap at his skin.
He engaged the lower valves of the Five-Viscera Blood Cauldron.
HUUUU.
He exhaled through clenched teeth.
From every pore along his chest, neck, and forearms, a high-pressure sheet of eighty-degree blood steam vented outward with the hiss of a cracked boiler pipe rim.
