Lin Guang stepped onto the rooftop.
The fierce snowstorm nearly buried this place, turning this reflective glass building into a white column standing tall amidst the blizzard.
His injuries had worsened, and his physical strength was dissipating as his wounds froze over.
On the rooftop, that one parasol and round table still stood in the corner, once filled with pastries for welcoming Lewis; he had casually live-streamed from here, sipping tea and laughing as he threatened all of humanity. But now he was half drenched in blood, his injuries so serious that he was nearly going into shock, gasping violently with every step.
...How exactly did he get himself into this state?
Because of "love"?
Because he had welcomed Lewis into the City of Gods?
He lifted his head, able to see the fireworks lighting up another direction from the rooftop. Those who had not gone into battle were gathering to set off fireworks.
"Whoosh—whoosh—"