Whatever went wrong in the end could only have been trouble you caused yourself.
So the Ghost King patted the seat beside him, signaling Saint Lord Taichu to come over and sit down. Whatever they had to say could be discussed properly together; there was no need to resort to fighting and killing to solve the problem.
Saint Lord Taichu could not possibly stomach any of the food the Ghost Clan ate.
None of it was normal. Most of it was either rotting, putrid corpses.
Or zombie meat. The Hundred Spirits Bird behind Saint Lord Taichu had always had rather heavy tastes, but at the sight of it, even the Hundred Spirits Bird felt like throwing up.
"Oh my God, they eat this stuff? Don't they think it's horribly unsanitary? This is simply not something a normal person could accept, okay?"
"You have to understand, these people aren't nearly so particular. To them, as long as they can eat their fill, that's enough.
"And the things that make us sick might be the finest delicacies in their eyes."
Take the human flesh in their hands, for example. Normally, people would not eat their own kind unless they had reached a point where they could not survive otherwise. That would naturally be a different matter.
"But they are different. In their minds, human flesh has an indescribable flavor that no other food can replace."
"Especially meat that has already spoiled and turned foul-smelling—it is even more popular with them. So calling them heavy eaters is not wrong at all, in my opinion."
Once those words were spoken, the Ghost King's expression became somewhat strained. How could he humiliate me like this?
"Brother Saint Lord Taichu, please have a seat. I know you have been waiting for a long time."
The Ghost