The perception tentacles continuously caressed the street lamp poles, and a familiar sensation emerged, like a retired athlete grasping a long-lost piece of equipment, or a legendary driver stepping back into the cockpit of a mech.
This feeling was as if— "The Machine Soul Rejoices"!
He closed his eyes, allowing the perception tentacles to shoot out continuously, snatching street lamp poles one after another.
In no time, hundreds of street lamp poles had gathered around him, and it seemed more lamp poles were surging here with the dark currents of the black sea.
Lin Yi slowly opened his eyes. In his dazzling golden pupils, the sun seemed to be burning, and together with these street lamp poles around him, there was a grand air of "Wang Xianzhi, Lin Yi visits the Gray Mist Sea, bringing with him an entire city's lamp poles to battle you."
All sorts of cheeky thoughts like "street lamp pole opens the Heavenly Gate" ran through Lin Yi's mind.
