Thirty meters high, the retro high-rise building stood under the blazing sun, with the sea breeze blowing in gusts.
"If this disfigured face won't come to his senses, then I'll have to give it to him hard."
In Ben's hands, four sets of cards were bent into an arch shape, and as his fingers relaxed and tightened, they were quickly and vertically shot into the air, one by one.
These thin cards could remain in the air for quite a long time.
Hundreds of cards, following the horizontal and vertical dance of Ben's hands, burst out like a card dealer machine, unleashing a storm of slicing winds that blocked Morison off entirely; no living being could survive in this domain.
Morison simply pulled out a more convenient leather whip.
Ratatat...
