"...You just wanted to go home and have a meal, didn't you?"
Ichiryu, sitting across from him, slowly shook his head before quietly asking Fang Mo.
"..."
Hearing that, Fang Mo instinctively looked stunned. Fortunately, his mindset was steady now, and after only a brief lapse, he returned to normal.
"I thought Hayakawa Aki's critical-hit roasting was already unmatched under heaven. Never thought someone even fiercer than him existed... whose subordinate are you?"
Fang Mo deliberately rubbed his forehead. "And who taught you that armor-piercing rhetoric?"
"What?"
Ichiryu clearly had no idea what Fang Mo was talking about. "Subordinate? Armor-piercing? What exactly do you mean?"
"A heavy sword cannot pierce golden armor, but whispers by the ear strike deepest at the heart..."
Fang Mo sighed helplessly. "You could drag The Sun down, shove it up my ass, and blast me into a supernova, and if I cried out in pain, I'd be your grandson. But that one sentence almost broke my fucking defenses. Damn, if this had been before, I might really have exploded..."
"So that was what you meant?"
Hearing Fang Mo's explanation, Ichiryu seemed to understand. "Uh, well, I didn't mean any harm..."
"Of course I know."
Fang Mo waved a hand and interrupted him. "Otherwise, you'd already be cosplaying Hawking in the Afterlife World."
"...And what strange place is that?" Ichiryu asked, baffled. "The Soul Society?"
"Close enough."
Fang Mo answered casually before asking curiously, "But back to the point, how exactly did you deduce that I wanted to go home for a meal? Did Jia Junpeng tell you?"
"Oh, so that was what you were curious about?"
Perhaps because the battle was over, Ichiryu quickly returned to his usual carefree self. Stroking his beard, he said, "Don't let appearances fool you. This old man is actually