SQUELCH!
Covered from head to toe in thick, golden Osmanthus Sweet-Corn Syrup, Cult Master Gu Chong (Rank 8 Late) peeled his face off the marble floor of the train balcony with a long, sticky shuck sound.
Strings of amber sugar stretched from his chin to the deck plates. His praying-mantis skull crown was cracked down the middle, and two sweet osmanthus petals were stuck to his left eyebrow.
Behind him, out in the middle of the twenty-mile porcelain bowl, his “invincible” Ancient Locust Queen was snoring happily on her back with her six golden legs twitching in the air, while forty-seven thousand of his elite cultists hung glued to the fifty-mile flypaper rim like a giant modern art installation of candied bugs.
“My Queen... my fifty thousand Goliath Locusts... my five hundred billion apocalypse swarm...”
Gu Chong’s shoulders shook violently as he knelt in the puddle of syrup. For five centuries, he had cultivated the ruthless way of venomous insects, and he still had one final, terrifying trump card hidden inside his own dantian!
Keeping his head bowed so Pei Xuan wouldn’t see the vicious gleam in his eyes, Gu Chong secretly circulated the last drop of his Rank 8 Late Blood-Essence into his right sleeve.
