In this mad Extraordinary World, an Undying Body was no longer anything rare.
Heavy shadows completely shrouded York. After a brief moment of shock, he tried to fight back again. With the awakening of power, chains wrapped around York's torso, sinking into his flesh and blood. A strength far beyond what York himself possessed was bestowed upon him, but when that power tried to swell further, it seemed to hit a bottleneck and could no longer grow.
An inexplicable sigh drifted over.
York did not possess an Alchemy Matrix; no matter how much his strength was raised, it would ultimately remain bound within mortality. From the very beginning, he had been just an unlucky bastard who had blundered into the Extraordinary World.
"Night Race? How can a Night Race be here?"
Tino panted heavily; as he spoke, he swung his blade in passing, carving another savage wound across York's body.
