"Smack!"
"Ah, you two bastards, go easy!"
"Oh..." Liver Emperor and Dog Bro both gave a dazed "oh," then opened their palms and looked at the sticky lump on them. "Sprout Yo, this game is way too realistic. It even has mosquitoes. Look at all the bites on Grandpa Lu's head!"
Dog Bro: "You know that's his head?"
Liver Emperor: "Could it be his feet?"
Hearing this, Grandpa Lu angrily twisted himself around. At this point, he didn't even know whether the upper spiral tip of his body was supposed to be his head, but the two rough men had each smacked it once, leaving it bright red!
Damn it, were these two bastards doing that on purpose? Did they really have to hit so hard just to swat a mosquito?
As for why he didn't do it himself and needed others to swat mosquitoes for him... Obviously, he didn't have hands. How was he supposed to swat them? Had they ever seen a turd shooing away flies by itself?
"Speaking of which, why aren't the mosquitoes biting you two?" Grandpa Lu said, feeling extremely indignant.
"They are biting us. They just can't get through!" As he spoke, Liver Emperor pointed at his arm. "Look..."
Grandpa Lu looked over carefully. By the faint moonlight, it took him several seconds to see clearly. Liver Emperor's arm was actually covered in mosquitoes, but his body hair was simply too formidable—dense and stiff, with each strand nearly a foot long. The mosquitoes had struggled to squeeze through but couldn't get in. And the few that finally managed to get through soon discovered... Damn it, his skin is even harder than his hair!
"See? You elves are always saying that we're rough-skinned and thick-fleshed. Now you know the benefits of being rough-skinned and thick-fleshed,