Gazing at the Yu Zi Square Axis getting closer and closer, that golden sphere shrouded in a tremendous gale, came tearing through the air with an unstoppable force. The sight made Mikhail's hair stand on end, as if he were being targeted by hundreds of New Siberian Wind's beam satellite cannons. The golden sphere, towering at thirty to forty meters high, was getting closer. Helair stood up with a smile, stepping barefoot onto Fisher's chest and kicking him over before he had a chance to react,
"Dear passengers, hold on tight, the Morning Star is encountering turbulent air. Captain Helair is now taking charge to lead you through the storm! Once again, please hold on tight!"
Of the four passengers, two had already disconnected, and the remaining two were not faring much better.
Helair's short golden curls fluttered wildly in the wind, yet she nonchalantly raised her giant scythe, spinning it to create a cutting power that could pierce through space.
