Chapter 245: Method of Perception
The most dangerous place is the safest place. Most people would not have thought that Formaggio would dare to shrink himself to such a defenseless size and then hide on the enemy's body at the risk of being crushed to death.
At the beginning, Mista made the same mistake as most people, not realizing that he was not fully aware of the problem, and he didn't even think about it himself.
But now, only a short while had passed and Mista had stopped running and began to check his pockets with great purpose.
It was obvious that he had noticed his opponent's hiding trick.
Formaggio couldn't understand why his tracks were exposed so quickly:
The intelligence didn't mention that Mista had any other sensory abilities.
Did Mista have an unexpected inspiration, or did he just accidentally make some noise in his pocket?
Or was the guy simply trying to get his phone out of his pocket?
It was difficult to get an answer to this question at the moment, but no matter what, Mista's big hand was already slapping him in the face.
Although Mista's hand had shrunk to the size of an underdeveloped child, it was still a fatal attack to Formaggio, who was less than ten centimeters tall.
Now the “why” is not the most important thing, what is important is the “how”.
And Formaggio certainly knew what to do: he dared to hide in Mista's pocket, so he was naturally prepared with a means of escape at any time.
So, before Mista was about to smack himself into a pancake with his palm, Formaggio suddenly pulled out a ballpoint pen from his pocket.
This ballpoint pen had shrunk in proportion to Formaggio's shrinkage, and was now only about the thickness of a hair.
"Get bigger!"
Formaggio thought about it and released the ballpoint pen from its shrinking state.
The ballpoint pen suddenly grew from small to large, like a magic wand, and in the process of expanding instantly it lifted Formaggio, who was still a small man, up into the sky.
With the thrust generated by the object's enlargement and expansion, as well as the elasticity of the ballpoint pen's spring, Formaggio successfully flew into the air before Mista's big hand came and safely avoided this fatal blow.
Just like that, Formaggio's small figure drew a hidden path in the air, and soon fell silently on the curb a few meters away.
The physical impact that a person can withstand is related to the cross-sectional area of skeletal muscles and is proportional to the square of the length; while kinetic energy depends on its own mass, which is related to volume and is proportional to the cube of the length.
If the height is reduced by 10 times, the ability to withstand impact will be reduced by 100 times, while the impact force that the human body withstands during free fall will be reduced by 1000 times.
Because of this, when humans are scaled down, their ability to withstand external physical shocks will actually be greatly enhanced.
This "human cannon" escape method would definitely kill or cripple a normal-sized human, but for Formaggio, who was nearly twenty times smaller in size, such damage could be easily endured.
So, he landed on the side of the road unscathed, and then quickly hid behind a roadside tree standing next to him.
When Mista's hand slapped the second pocket, all he touched was a ballpoint pen that suddenly popped out of the pocket.
"That guy really discovered me—"
"He just said 'pat' instead of 'groping'."
"This means that he was very likely certain that I was in that pocket, so he attacked me with such great force!"
Hiding behind a roadside tree a few meters away, Formaggio thought solemnly.
He had put away his previous contempt and his heart was filled with caution.
At this moment, Mista, who was a few meters away, was holding the ballpoint pen that suddenly popped out of his pocket, thinking deeply.
He seemed to have seen through Formaggio's escape trick, so he was stunned for a moment before turning his head and looking around nervously.
Formaggio quickly hid himself deeper behind the tree trunk:
"That guy is looking for me with his eyes? It seems that the intelligence is correct..."
"He really doesn't have any means of perception, otherwise he wouldn't have searched with his naked eyes the first time he found out I had escaped."
"If that's the case, then why was I discovered just now?"
"Is it really just because of his 'sudden whim'?"
With doubt in his heart, Formaggio hid it carefully.
He was waiting for Mista's size to shrink further under the power of Little Foot, and was also nervously thinking about the method the other party had just discovered.
And as Formaggio was observing with vigilance, Mista's performance was somewhat unexpected.
First, Mista did not continue to try to escape.
Formaggio could understand this:
After all, his enemy is not an immobile clay puppet, and simply running away may not necessarily shake off his pursuit.
Now that he had some sort of ability to "sense the enemy," he might as well stay and solve the problem once and for all before he shrunk to the point where he couldn't fight.
However, Mista's actions after he stayed became somewhat puzzling:
He no longer looked around with his naked eyes, but instead kept his gaze down and lowered his head, with no intention of looking for the enemy at all.
He just stood there blankly, staring at the ground with such concentration that it seemed as if money was growing out of the ground.
"The ground... Is there something on the ground?"
"By the way, he also stopped and looked at the ground for a while before he suddenly checked his pockets."
"Could it be that... the secret of how that guy was able to find my tracks is on the ground?"
Formaggio suddenly thought of Mista's strange behavior just now.
He quickly followed Mista's gaze and looked at the concrete road over there.
After looking far into the distance for a long time, he finally saw clearly those little creatures that had been crawling on the ground:
Ants, a group of ants.
These tiny creatures gathered more and more on the road at some point, and even formed a long column in a very disciplined manner.
"Ants...why is he observing ants?"
Formaggio had a vague idea.
Just as he was full of doubts, he suddenly heard a series of shrill squeaking sounds in his ears.
It turned out that a few huge sewer rats had poked their heads out of the wide drain, staring at him from a distance with excitement on their faces while grinding their teeth.
Looking at the excited looks of those mice waving their claws, it seemed that they would be unable to hold back and pounce on Formaggio at any time.
"There's something wrong with these rats..."
Formaggio felt increasingly uneasy:
Although mice are quite aggressive, they are cautious and timid animals by nature.
When they encountered unknown creatures, even if they were small creatures like Formaggio now, they would hide first and observe carefully to judge, instead of drooling at him from a distance like a dog smelling meat like they did now.
Unless...these mice had skipped the observation process and judged him to be food as soon as they saw him.
"food…"
Formaggio suddenly thought of something:
"That's right, I am now food in the eyes of ants and mice!"
"Because I was covered in ice cream, and ice cream is the favorite sweet treat of these bugs and mice."
"No wonder Mista has been observing the ground all the time. He is using those ants to find my direction!"
This was all due to Formaggio's haste, which caused the ice cream to spill all over himself. These high-calorie, sweet things had been sticking to his body and hadn't melted, and he couldn't get rid of them no matter how hard he tried.
Ants can use their sense of smell to sense food information within dozens of meters, so Formaggio, covered in ice cream, naturally became the target of these little creatures.
He now looked like a chicken drumstick fried to golden brown on both sides, making the "children" nearby cry with envy.
So, just by observing the direction in which the ants followed the smell, Mista could roughly infer where he was hiding.
And the fact is just as Formaggio expected:
After some observation, Mista suddenly pulled out his pistol. He had roughly determined the direction of the enemy:
"Over there , near that roadside tree!"
Bullets flew out in the flames.
The No.1 in the Sexy Pistol rides on this bullet, riding the mount and galloping freely like a prairie hunter, and carefully observing the movements around him while galloping.
After all, the ants can only point out a rough direction, and Mista's stand has to rely on the naked eye to detect the specific location of the enemy.
Soon, as the bullet whizzed past the tree trunk...
Formaggio's extremely livid face appeared.
