Meters away from the bladed sphere stood the Metal Mime. His winking face was unchanging, but with the slight tilt of its head upward, its one open eye appeared like it was snickering at the sight.
Only the Mime could see what was happening inside.
Razor filings tore into Kenneth's skin instantly—shredding muscles, flaying flesh, ripping open every inch of him.
Blood sprayed into the whirlwind, and the tornado drank it greedily, the spinning mass staining a few streaks of red…then, it became a quarter part…until it was no longer glinting silver like metal, but churned like a storm of liquified gore.
Just like a sphere made of blood!
The Mime jumped excitedly, clapping its hands like a delighted performer taking center stage. It bowed deeply, assuming it had shredded Kenneth Silverfang into pieces.
