Greg landed on the ground, his golden eyes scanning everyone around him.
The weaknesses and information of every being in sight—players and shadow slaves alike—were laid bare before him, as though the world itself had unfolded before his gaze.
"Nemesis! Help us!" a female player cried out, panic thick in her voice.
"Yes! Nemesis, please save us!" the other players echoed, desperation coloring their words.
Greg paid little attention to their pleas. His gaze remained locked on the shadow slaves, numbering around a hundred. Each core pulsed visibly within their distorted forms, glowing like twisted hearts—vulnerable, exposed to his evolved perception.
"Buddy, it's been a while. Let's run riot together," he muttered, a grin tugging at his lips as Heaven Defier materialized in his hand, its black blade humming with excitement.
"Stay out of the way. Don't disturb me," he instructed calmly, not even sparing them a glance.
