With a sickening crack, Pàng Guī's entire head exploded in a gruesome spray of blood and bone.
The sound echoed throughout, leaving a silence in its wake.
The twisted remains of what was once been Pàng Guī's head lay scattered.
Feng Shen, unbothered, calmly lifted his foot from the splattered remains.
He glanced down at his bloodstained footwear with mild annoyance.
"Tsk," Feng Shen muttered, shaking his foot to fling off the gore.
The casualness of the motion was more chilling than the act itself to most present, as if this was nothing more than an inconvenient mess to this demon.
Feng Shen found himself teleported back to his seat.
Everything else resumed its routine, the mechanical voice announcing the next match as if the brutal scene moments ago had never occurred.
Feng Shen didn't care.
His boredom had already returned, a crushing weight that dulled the thrill of his earlier actions.
