Seeing ten thousand crimson-vested grandmas line up across Harvest Plaza in a flawless hundred-by-hundred square-dance formation while four-man teams plugged golden power cables from their [Rank 7 High-Decibel Boomboxes] straight into the [Gu Family Flying Courtyard’s] synthesis generator, eighteen-year-old Chosen One Ye Ming felt a primal, baffling terror creep up his spine that was ten times scarier than facing a righteous sect master!
“No! I refuse to let you ruin my dark aesthetic!”
Panic-stricken, Ye Ming bit the tip of his thumb, smeared a drop of blood across the skull on his staff, and activated the ultimate planetary spell of his [Supreme Dark-Abyss Edgelord System]:
“ULTIMATE NETHERWORLD ART: ETERNAL MIDNIGHT CURTAIN! Block out the sky! Turn the fifty fog-machines to maximum overdrive! I am a creature of the endless night—no ray of sunlight shall ever touch my pale skin!”
WHOOOOOOSH—RUMBLE!
All fifty giant coal-smoke and dry-ice fog machines bolted to the city towers roared into overdrive. Meanwhile, A massive, three-layer dome of pitch-black Yin-clouds condensed in the upper atmosphere of Worlds #8. Moreover, #9, Threatening to plunge both agricultural planets into permanent, freezing darkness and boost the combat power of the Million-Bone Undead Legion by three hundred percent!
“Oh no!” seventy-eight-year-old Elder Lin cried out from the courtyard veranda, looking up as the artificial midnight curtain blotted out the afternoon sky. “If that Yin-cloud dome locks into place over the atmosphere, the ten million acres of ripening summer spirit-wheat across Worlds #8 and #9 will freeze and rot on the…
