"Wow, kid, you're getting nastier and nastier with that mouth of yours!"
After the others had left, Lu Feng, who had been watching the spectacle on television in the lounge next to the office, had just finished a skewer and wiped the mutton grease from his mouth. He clicked his tongue and sighed. "If I were that asshole general, I'd probably bring my boys over to start a fight with you right away."
"Wouldn't that be perfect?"
Ji Jue pulled over a chair, sat down, and laid two skewers of lamb on the grill. Taking the beer, he gulped down two mouthfuls. As the saying went, one took on the color of one's company. Once a teetotaler, he had been repeatedly steeped in North Mountain District's dining-table culture and had somehow grown used to drinking.
Hearing that, he couldn't help but tease, "You're scared."
"Scared? I'm scared they won't bring enough people, okay?"
Bare-chested, Lu Feng ate and drank in front of the grill until sweat streamed down his back. He scratched the messy string of tattoos on his arm, utterly unconcerned.
What a joke.
Back in Central Earth, he had done so much dirty and clean work that he'd nearly puked from it. He had killed so many local kings, gang bosses, and Empire elites that he was sick of it. Now that he had guns, cannons, armor, and all that, would he be afraid of a bunch of little fry who had crawled out of who knew where at sea?
These past few days, he had been bored out of his mind in New Spring. Just robbing Garbage Collectors of their stun batons no longer satisfied his ever-growing spiritual and cultural needs. Just when he was worried the campus wasn't violent enough, someone had come knocking to help