"Huh?"
Iskandar, Artoria Pendragon, and even Gilgamesh stared blankly at Wu Biao, looking at this bizarre fellow with a huge bald head and a white lab coat somehow worn with the air of a convict in a labor camp...
He was a king too?
What kind of joke was this—
The most ridiculous king in a country full of ridiculous people?
"Though some long-winded old bastard keeps bossing me around every day, the life and death of everyone in the entire world is under my control." Brother Biao snorted smugly.
Though, that said...
Hell handled pretty much everything, and Hell kept assigning him all sorts of work, but Wu Biao, who was equivalent to Hell, truly was the king of a world.
The King of Hell!
And the supreme king at that. He could decide the life or death, freedom or imprisonment, of every Togabito in Hell, though Brother Biao had never cared about those trashy fools in the first place...
Of course, no one else present knew any of that.
If they had to describe how they felt at that moment, it could be summed up in six words: utterly absurd beyond belief—
This guy was actually a king?
The corners of Iskandar and Artoria Pendragon's mouths twitched slightly. Since when had kings become so cheap?
"What a joke, mongrel."
Gilgamesh directly snapped at him, his eyes wide with fury. If this mad dog was also a king, then the lower limit of kings had clearly been dragged down.
"Uh, let me ask this at least. It's fine if you don't answer." Iskandar scratched his cheek with a finger, his expression strange. "What is your true name? And what land are you king of?"
"Me?"
Wu Biao's hands paused. He slowly set the food back down, wiped the grease