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The moment Contact, an executive member of the Red Eye Gang, met Keter’s gaze, he immediately activated his trump card: a third eye opened on his forehead. The vividness and depth in its gaze made it clear this wasn’t fake or conjured by magic.
It wasn’t an ordinary eye either. Maran, the Eye Collector, had harvested countless eyes and implanted them into subordinates he found useful. The eye on Contact’s forehead was one of an illusionist. Just making eye contact with it was enough to trap an opponent in a powerful illusion.
The henchmen on either side of Contact also opened their third eyes, though theirs weren’t special like his. They simply expanded the field of vision. Still, that alone boosted combat effectiveness. After all, more eyes meant seeing more.
But unfortunately for them, Keter had fought Maran dozens of times. He saw through all of it.
Not even worth firing an arrow.
Thud!
Keter stomped the ground and shouted, “Popo, it’s feeding time.”
There was no need for Keter to lift a finger.
Slurrpppp!!
Hundreds of green, slimy tendrils shot out from the gaps in the tower, swarming...
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