The commander's eyes shot wide open.
An utterly bizarre scene was rapidly unfolding before him.
He swung the sharp machete in his hand, striking a piece of Yellow Paper as it fluttered down.
But the Yellow Paper seemed incredibly sticky. It instantly clung to the sharp blade, adhering to it tightly.
The part of the fine steel blade covered by the Yellow Paper rapidly fused with the metal, and that section quickly turned yellow.
It was as if that part of the blade was made of Yellow Paper itself.
Meanwhile, more and more Yellow Paper drifted down toward him in a ceaseless stream.
The commander swung his machete like a great windmill.
The move was clearly effective in protecting his body.
He managed to block all the incoming Yellow Paper.
However, every single piece was now stuck to his fine-steel machete.
The commander's heart sank into an endless abyss.
The machete in his hand was growing lighter and lighter, the entire weapon having turned a sickly, ancient yellow.
