As the Burning Corps' support struck in time, Trash Older Brother, with his claws in action, broke into the battlefield, turning the fight into a one-sided slaughter in an instant.
And everyone truly witnessed the dominance of Trash Older Brother when the wind was in his sails.
Facing forward, there was a risk of being shot into a honeycombed mess.
But for ambush and pursuit, he was exceptionally skilled—a light flick of his claws and the Believers blocking his way were torn in two.
Bathed in blood, with his killing instinct ignited, Trash Older Brother's amber pupils twinkled with a bloodthirsty gleam.
"Ha ha ha! Thrilling!"
Still not fully satisfied, he raised his head and let out an exhilarating howl, which reverberated through the smoke, causing ripples of sound.
"Awooo!!!"
Pain contorted the faces of the nearby Believers as they instinctively covered their ears.
Perhaps the effects of their stimulants were wearing off, as pain and fear finally caught up with them.
