Princess carry!

"Pitiful."

Artis shook his head like a disappointed father catching his son failing at arm wrestling a toddler.

The entire room was frozen in time. Eyes stretched wide, jaws unhinged, brains struggling to comprehend the absolute fuckery they were witnessing.

Even Lily—who had tried, tried to preserve some shred of dignity—had her face buried in her hands.

But not completely.

Oh no.

Between her fingers, a small gap remained—just enough to witness the incoming carnage.

Even Biceps Guy, who had finally caught up—huffing, wheezing, sweat pouring—stood there, eyes bugging out like a fish gasping for air.

His mouth was already hanging open, so there was no need for further dramatics. He was already at maximum shock capacity.

And the poor bastard whose pants had been violated by the gods of destruction?

He twitched.