Douluo: Reincarnation of Leosli, punishing the evildoers

A giant bubble enveloped the ghosts and spirits.

Logically, the abilities of ghosts and gods should allow them to transform themselves into a state of nothingness, thereby evading physical attacks. However, at this moment, he was trapped in a giant transparent bubble, and his originally ethereal body had solidified again within this seemingly fragile barrier.

His brows furrowed, and for the first time, a hint of surprise and confusion appeared in his eyes.

The surface of the bubble shimmered with a faint light, as if it contained some strange power, isolating it from all external interference. The black mist of ghosts and gods churned inside the bubble, but could not break through that thin barrier.

The ghost snorted coldly, reached out and touched the inner wall of the bubble, feeling a chill on his fingertips.

"interesting."

Higewen stood to the side with a smile, gently waving the tranquilizer gun in her hand.

"It seems that even our 'intangible' adversaries have moments when they are helpless."

The black fog on the street gradually dissipated, and sunlight shone through the thin mist onto everyone, dispelling the previous chilly atmosphere.

Siegfried put away the tranquilizer gun, a faint smile playing on her lips. She looked at the ghost trapped in the giant bubble, raising an eyebrow, seemingly amused by his reaction.

Higewen: "It seems that even gods can miscalculate."

Her voice was relaxed and slightly playful, without the slightest tension or fear in her tone, but rather carried the composure of a victor.

Siegwen's gaze swept over the ghost within the bubble, then turned to Leosley, seemingly awaiting his next instruction.

The atmosphere on the street suddenly froze. Under the sunlight after the black fog dissipated, everyone's eyes were focused on the huge transparent bubble.

The ghost's body was trapped inside, and its originally illusory existence was forcibly solidified. For the first time, a trace of undisguised anger appeared on its face.

His finger traced a shallow line on the inner wall of the bubble, but the barrier remained unmoved, as if ignoring all his power.

Leosley remained standing there, his expression calm, as if everything before him was within his expectations.

Since he can switch between reality and illusion, surely he can't still miss when he attacks, right?
The moment the ghosts and spirits attacked him, he was shattered and then solidified again.

But what about this bubble?

As long as the bubble exists, he will be pulled back into it.

In other words, this bubble is the point of transition between the real and the virtual.

However, Leosley knew that although he could scatter the spirits, it would still take some time.

He discovered that the bubble could only isolate, but not attack.

The ability of ghosts and gods is to transform themselves into a state of nothingness, thereby avoiding physical attacks.

But that's not all.

Even gods need to breathe, right?
Since it involves breathing, it must require oxygen, right?

What would happen if this god's oxygen were cut off?

The ghost struggled inside the bubble for a while, but found it was all in vain.

The air on the street seemed to freeze at that moment, and sunlight shone through the thin mist onto the ground, refracting a faint golden glow. A huge, transparent bubble floated silently in mid-air, trapping the ghost's body within it. His face was tense, and a barely perceptible hint of anxiety flashed in his eyes.

The ghost's finger traced the inner wall of the bubble again, this time with increased force, but the bubble remained unmoved, as if his power was insignificant before this transparent barrier. Black mist churned inside the bubble, yet it could not break through the seemingly fragile outer shell.

"You think you can trap me like this? This mere barrier, I can break through it with a single move."

The ghost gave a cold laugh, his voice low and hoarse.

"Oh?" Leosley smiled slightly but didn't reply.

Since that's the case, let's add some more ingredients.

"Head Nurse."

"learn."

Higgin made a larger bubble than before and placed it outside the previous bubble.

The ghost was stunned for a moment, and suddenly had a bad feeling.

"Hey! What exactly do you want?"

Leosley tilted his head slightly and looked at Siegwen.

She smiled slightly, a hint of mockery flashing in her eyes.

With a snap of his fingers, Leosley caused the surface of the bubbles to freeze at a visible speed.

The ghost's expression froze instantly. His fingers pressed tightly against the ice wall, trying to break through this solid cage with his own strength. However, no matter how hard he tried to break through with the black mist or how forcefully he struck the ice, it remained unmoved, as if it were an unshakeable iron wall.

"They're really tenacious."

Leosley watched all of this calmly.

A flicker of panic crossed the ghost's eyes. He could feel the surrounding air growing thinner and thinner, and breathing became increasingly difficult.

The demon was breathing heavily: "What exactly are you trying to do?"

Leosley remained standing, like a cold statue, his black armor gleaming sharply in the sunlight. His gaze was deep and silent, as if the surrounding clamor was irrelevant to him.

The question from the ghost echoed in the air, but his face remained expressionless, not even his eyebrows twitched.

He simply watched the ghosts and spirits imprisoned in the double-layered ice bubble, as if he were watching a drama whose ending he had already foreseen.

"You think you can trap me like this? I am a demon, and I can never be defeated by your methods!"

The ghost was panting, its voice hoarse.

His fingers scratched frantically at the ice wall, and the black mist churned in the narrow space, but it could never break through the layers of barriers.

As time went on, the ghost's breathing became more and more rapid, and its face gradually turned pale.

The demon's chest heaved violently, each breath seeming as if squeezed out of the thin air. His face grew increasingly pale, cold sweat trickling down his cheeks and condensing into tiny ice beads on the inner walls of the ice bubbles. His fingers continued to frantically scratch at the ice walls, his nails even leaving shallow marks on the surface, but the impenetrable barrier showed no sign of weakening.

The ghost's voice trembled, filled with resentment: "You...do you think you can trap me like this? I am a ghost, I will never..."

Before he could finish speaking, he suddenly coughed, his chest heaving violently, as if he were using up all his remaining strength. His body swayed, and after managing to steady himself, the light in his eyes gradually dimmed, replaced by deep exhaustion and a barely concealed fear.

Leosley stood to the side, arms crossed, coldly watching the scene unfold.

Doesn't God know that in a confined space, the more you talk and the more you move, the faster you consume oxygen?

The ghost's breathing grew heavier and heavier, and his face turned as pale as paper.

"What...what do you want? We can talk..."

His voice was weak and feeble, with a hint of pleading.

The black mist of the ghosts churned within the ice bubble, trying to find any crack to escape, but the impenetrable ice layer mercilessly blocked all hope. His body began to twitch slightly, and his consciousness gradually faded. (End of Chapter)