You Call This Hospitality?

In Commorragh, Alvin was as good as dead.

That was his current situation, especially after seeing the "Commorragh specialties" along the way. They had pushed him past his limit,

and shattered the worldview he had spent decades building across two lifetimes.

He had to admit—

No wonder the Dark Eldar fancied themselves the sole legitimate inheritors of the old Aeldari Empire, the old "true blue-bloods."

The countless bizarre pastimes of Commorragh's lower levels alone had been enough to "open his eyes." He didn't even dare imagine how wild the real Dark Eldar got!

Screw the sky, the earth, and even the air—

That phrase was merely a figure of speech when applied to other races, but when it came to the Dark Eldar, it was a spot-on description!

Only now, seeing it all with his own eyes, did Alvin finally understand that the little bit of depravity he'd imagined before was as innocent as a virgin compared to the Dark Eldar. He wasn't exaggerating!

A race capable of screwing Slaanesh into existence—well, that said it all about the variety and madness of their tastes.

Thinking of this, Alvin couldn't help giving Anna a thumbs-up and praising her from the heart. "You people really know how to have fun."

Anna brushed back her hair and chuckled. "Lord Alvin, what you've seen so far is only the most basic stuff. If you're really interested, once we meet the Archon, I can take you to some high-end venues and show you some real 'art.' I guarantee you'll be satisfied."

"No need. I'm a man of simple tastes, not interested in women. Thanks."

Alvin politely declined at once.

What a joke. The basic stuff had nearly made him throw up. If he went to see the high-end stuff, he'd probably have nightmares for the