"Could it be that you've been possessed by the soul of some pet dog?" Sun Hang asked, pinching his own chin in wonder. "Are you really the infamous Yamata Orochi?"
The Yamata Orochi didn't reply... Well, maybe it simply couldn't speak the human language.
Sun Hang took a deep breath and tentatively reached out to touch the snake head that was taller than he was.
The smallest scales on this head were larger than the palm of Sun Hang's hand. They felt like sheets of steel pressed out by a hydraulic press—cold, smooth, with a metallic sheen, and their edges were razor-sharp, faintly reflecting Sun Hang's shadow.
As Sun Hang stroked the head of the Yamata Orochi, the giant snake actually closed its eyes, looking thoroughly pleased.
It felt to Sun Hang more like he was petting a large dog he had at home, rather than a giant serpent's head.
