Two and a half hours felt as long as a century.
This was, of course, not Han Sen's limit, but Terrible Tornado's.
On the huge, soft bed in the presidential suite, large enough for seven or eight people to roll around on, the messy silk sheets were piled up crumpled, as if they had been through a storm.
The air still carried a sweet and lingering scent, like after a storm.
Terrible Tornado, an S-Class Hero who usually looked down on all beings with her overwhelming Psychokinesis, could easily overturn an entire city.
But at this moment, she was curled up quietly in the center of the bed, like a Persian cat that had exhausted all its strength.
Her iconic emerald green curly hair was now spread out like seaweed on the snow-white pillow, with a few damp strands clinging to her smooth, full forehead and charmingly flushed cheeks.
Her usually tightly pursed thin lips were slightly parted, emitting even and sweet breaths.
Long, curled Eyelashes trembled slightly with her steady breathing, and one or two dry tear marks still hung at the corners of her eyes, making her look endearing.
Her sleeping face was like an angel's, a stark contrast to her usual icy, distant demeanor.
Han Sen stood by the bed, bare-chested, with only a bath towel wrapped around his waist.
His incredibly tough skin displayed fluid and perfect muscle lines, as if they were a timeless masterpiece meticulously crafted by the most outstanding sculptor.
He quietly watched this girl, who was usually arrogant and irritable but was now so quiet he could hear her heartbeat, and a smile unconsciously curved at the corner of his lips.
Compared to the big-breasted older sister secretary at home, who had long been tamed to be submissive and knew what pose to strike with just a glance.
This wild, immensely powerful, and irritable little wildcat clearly offered a greater sense of conquest!
Each time he made her go from bristling to submissive, from resisting to succumbing, it was like a thrilling animal taming show, bringing unparalleled satisfaction.
Han Sen reached out, gently pulling the quilt over Terrible Tornado, covering the mottled marks on the sheets and her petite, well-proportioned body.
His fingertips inadvertently brushed against her skin, smooth as top-grade porcelain, and that delicate touch stirred something within him.
"Mmm… bastard… no… more…"
Terrible Tornado seemed to sense something even in her dream, her beautiful brows furrowing slightly, and she mumbled indistinctly.
Her small hand instinctively waved, but it was soft and lacked any strength, and then she found a more comfortable position and fell into a deep sleep.
Han Sen shook his head with a chuckle.
Today's battle was indeed spectacular.
Whether it was the pure power struggle with Saitama, a fist-to-fist, earth-shattering contest.
Or the intense showdown with Terrible Tornado on another, deeper battlefield.
Both had thoroughly released his long-dormant battle blood and desire for conquest.
He leaned down and imprinted a gentle kiss on Terrible Tornado's smooth forehead before turning to walk towards the window.
The night sky was clear, with a few bright stars and a moon.
Han Sen's figure gradually blurred in the reflection of the floor-to-ceiling window, no longer that perfect human male body.
A viscous, black-mud-like mysterious substance surged from within him, like a living entity, rapidly covering his entire body.
Muscles and bones twisted and reshaped with "cracking" sounds, his tall figure elongated, becoming more slender and full of streamlined power.
When the black fluid substance completely retracted, a terrifying presence exuding infinite pressure replaced his original position.
It was still Han Sen, but in his Primal Weirdo form!
His insectoid body, hidden in the darkness, was long and elegant, like a noble of the night.
It was entirely covered in a layer of mysterious jet-black carapace, with hideous yet artistic sharp thorns covering its joints and edges.
Between the gaps of the armor, energy substances resembling dark golden lava slowly flowed from time to time, a manifestation of divine power and the planet's origin.
Burning scarlet eyes lit up in the darkness, devoid of any human emotion, only the majesty of a monarch and absolute indifference to all things.
With a single step, Han Sen's figure silently merged into the shadows beneath his feet, disappearing into the night.
…
…
Z-City, deep underground.
Monster Association.
After the stone Monster construction team's frantic, day and night infrastructure work, the new Monster King's exclusive sleeping quarters, the Insect God Temple, was nearing completion.
This was no longer the dark and crude large cave of the past, but a true underground palace.
On the dome, countless glowing rare minerals were embedded, forming a starlit source of light that illuminated the vast hall below, which was like a city square.
The floor was paved with huge black obsidian, smooth as a mirror, reflecting the magnificent starry river above.
Countless hideous and magnificent statues lined two rows, each representing a powerful Dragon-level Weirdo.
They all bowed in submission towards the Slaughter Throne at the end of the hall, cast from unknown metals and biological remains.
The entire Insect God Temple was extremely luxurious and magnificent, filled with a bizarre aesthetic combining post-modern and Cthulhu styles.
Even compared to any famous palace in human history, it could hold its own in terms of grandeur.
In this, the manager, Armored Gorilla, was indispensable.
This individual, once ranked third in House of Evolution, had now become the most trusted internal affairs officer under the Bug God, thanks to his exceptionally high intelligence and business acumen.
Without him, the chief designer, following up on the entire process, who knew what kind of bizarre and dark demon's lair these Monsters with questionable aesthetics would have built.
(Sealed Heart Form Orochi: I like it, what's it to you!)
At this moment, directly beneath the Insect God Temple, in an even deeper underground area.
In a secret laboratory filled with a cold, high-tech feel, countless huge culture tanks lined the surrounding walls, filled with various strange biological tissues, from which bubbles occasionally emerged.
On the experimental table in the center of the laboratory, a slender figure in a pure white lab coat was meticulously busy.
Monster Association strategist, Psykos.
She wore a pristine white research suit that perfectly accentuated her graceful curves, with buttons meticulously fastened to the very top, exuding an ascetic aura.
Her dreamlike, sea-nymph blue long hair was casually tied up with a pen, with a few unruly strands falling beside her fair cheeks.
A pair of delicate rimless glasses rested on her high nose bridge, and the emerald green eyes behind the lenses now gleamed with rational light, focused intently on the Monster fixed on the experimental table.
The scalpel in her hand cut precisely and steadily into the Monster's muscle tissue, her movements so elegant it seemed less like dissection and more like a precise work of art.
She seemed completely immersed in her own world, utterly oblivious to her surroundings, not even noticing Han Sen's terrifying figure silently appearing behind her.
It wasn't until a familiar pressure that made her soul tremble enveloped the entire laboratory that Psykos snapped back to reality as if waking from a dream.
The scalpel in her hand clattered onto the metal tray, but she paid it no mind, quickly taking off her glasses.
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