"What's that?"
Yakumo's voice trembled, and the sudden spiritual pressure almost forced her to her knees. She barely managed to keep standing with all her strength.
"Unclear."
Yelan turned her head, looking around, seeing that all people, regardless of their race, had fallen to the ground, prostrating in a posture of submission.
It was not something they did willingly, but a deep instinct from their souls that forced them to act this way.
"Could it be something those Bloodies from the Wilderness have concocted again?" Yakumo's delicate face, hidden beneath her hood, was covered in cold sweat. She had been in Street 903 for years, and it was the first time she felt such terrifying pressure.
"It's a possibility we can't rule out." Yelan continued with some pointless talk.
Just then, the spiritual pressure receded like a tide, concentrating at a spot in Street 903.
