The long and vast street stretched before them, its once-bustling path now transformed into a frozen expanse. Countless ice blocks encased the unfortunate Blood Slaves, emitting an eerie cracking sound as subtle spider-like fractures crept across the frozen surface.
The group of black-suited men surveyed their surroundings, a realization dawning upon them—this icy spectacle was the handiwork of their young miss. Without wasting a moment, the group swiftly retreated into the shelter of the showroom.
With a resounding "SWOOSH," walls of ice materialized, sealing off the showroom from both the hidden and visible openings. No Blood Slave would dare breach these frozen barriers.
Simultaneously, the group of four individuals who had been inside the showroom stood dumbfounded, their voices stifled by the chilling and indifferent aura emanating from the black-suited figures and a young woman with flowing blonde locks.
