"It seems I've arrived a bit late..."
The old man swept his gaze around the battlefield, then took another look at the black flesh orb not far away, a strange light flashing in his eyes as if he understood a lot about the situation in an instant.
"Cough, cough, cough!"
A series of coughing sounds came from the trees around, and Colin saw that the enemies who had been hiding in the dark and shooting, who hadn't been dealt with in time, seemed to have bad luck and accidentally choked on their saliva, unable to suppress the physiological instinct to cough.
Then, within a few seconds, they passed out one after another due to the severe coughing that caused a lack of oxygen in their brain...
'Is this... this strange?' Colin was dumbfounded.
He knew it was possible to knock oneself out by choking on water, but it couldn't happen to these people—they were clearly under the influence of that Ninth Level "Fate Propeller" powerhouse.
"Bad luck looks like this,"
