Inside the deep-sea stomach of Demon Monarch Mo Sha, the concept of physics had long ceased to function.
There were no walls in the ordinary sense.
There was only an infinite, waving lake of pitch-black stomach void-acid. A spirit fluid engineered over three million years to dissolve physical matter, unravel spiritual spirit veins, and corrode nascent souls into eternal oblivion.
A normal Golden Immortal caught within this ancient stomach tract would have dissolved into spiritual soup before their first scream could echo.
Lu Zhen sat cross-legged on a patch of spongy dark matter, his work boots planted firmly on the void-lining, adjusting his yellow hard hat.
Around him, geysers of acid-burning black acid bubbled up from the spongy floor. It hissed with malicious sentience. Tendrils of negative breakdown coiled around his neon-orange safety vest like starving leeches, attempting to penetrate the fabric and reach his skin.
The fabric didn’t tear.
The three-layer man-made polyester-cotton blend, heavy by the Heavenly Bug Tracker’s passive outside shielding, repelled the void-acid with the casual indifference of a waterproof tarp in a light drizzle.
