"Holy shit?"
Lu Feng stared blankly at the neat rows and enthusiastic smiling faces before him, momentarily stunned. If the setting and atmosphere had not been so wrong, he would have instinctively waved his hand and called for another batch...
After being a Tool Person for so long, suddenly becoming the boss gave him an indescribable sense of satisfaction.
Forgetting all the bitterness and hardship of the past, Lu Feng grinned. He suddenly wanted to imitate the navy and pull out a spirit-infusion baton to boost morale.
"Not bad, not bad! Pretty good! Keep up the good work!" Lu Feng patted the Little Cow and Horses on their shoulders, delighted beyond measure.
From front to back, then back to front, he never tired of it.
So this was what it felt like to be the client.
Loved it, loved it!
Yet, as they brushed past each other, Slan—who had long grown accustomed to such scenes amid the crowd—suddenly froze. His body tensed instinctively as he looked at Lu Feng's arm.
More precisely, at that tattoo.
His gaze touched it, then immediately withdrew.
Lu Feng's steps paused slightly. Seeing his expression, he understood. "You've seen it before?"
"I've heard of it, but not much."
Behind Slan's surface-level smile was a little more melancholy. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. It wasn't the first or second time the Red Federation made deals with devils. Besides, devils who pay are cuter than angels—just... people like you can actually survive long enough to retire?"
"Got lucky." Lu Feng shrugged.
Neither said much more. After lighting cigarettes for each other and exchanging a brief "nice to meet you," the subject ended.
These days, Central Earth had become a mud pit. The Federation and the Empire took turns onstage, while the Nine Cities Four States were merely their