Kuzon could feel his nerves stretching thin.
Sweat formed on his golden brow and his widened eyes sought an explanation. Right in front of him was a person who was supposed to have become a statue, but was perfectly fine.
How was such a thing possible? How could it happen? This was the ultimate technique of the Midas Race!
No one was supposed to be able to resist it. Yet…
'Why isn't he petrified yet?!'
… Here he was, watching an exception to the absolute rule.
"Hmm. I see now." A voice appeared from behind him, and someone suddenly materialised. "So that's how it works."
Before Kuzon could even react, the hand of the oddly familiar voice landed on his shoulder, sending a very domineering feeling coursing through him.
"Y-you… how are you…?"
Kuzon knew he was holding the opponent right in front of him. Yet, why was there another one standing right behind him?
"C-clone…?!"
