"Run!"
The Sons of Joy understood in an instant when they found out that the connection with Joy Street had been severed, that the guy in front of them was not a small fish but a giant ancient crocodile.
They turned around and ran immediately.
He is keen on others' joy and torment, but does not want to become the one being tormented.
"I still prefer your rebellious look just now."
Gary Smith's calm voice sounded, and the Little Spider beside him stretched out its tender white fingers and drew in the void.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
The transcendent saint-level spider silk sweeps, directly wrapping the Sons of Joy into cocoons, hanging in mid-air, with a trace of eroding power, even its spiritual body can't break free, let alone, there is a reinforcement of the Thousand-faced Soul Tree outside.
Pick it up in the little black room directly!
You have to say, apart from the unbearable head of the Sons of Joy, the figure is not bad.