Sometimes, only witches outstanding enough could become other witches' entertainment.
Lin Qiang met that standard. She had co-authored a book called Bloodline with Angelite, which meant she was unquestionably an academic heavyweight among the local witches. As everyone knew, any witch capable of collaborating with Angelite was elite among elites. Moreover, Bloodline represented the highest standard of witches' research into bloodlines; amid its dense and rich academic atmosphere, one could even find a hint of the comedic flavor of a storybook.
Late into the night, three more barrels of Marga had been opened in the VIP room. Even the faintest scent of alcohol had grown thick, and a pleasant haze of drunkenness gradually rose.
Jiang Han was a little drunk. She lightly scraped the edge of the drinking table with the top of her foot, wrapped in icy-blue pantyhose, using that slightly cool sensation to sober herself up a little.
But at times like this, emotions burst forth too quickly. Before she could even react, she was already curled up on the sofa hugging her tail, her high heels kicked off.
Beep beep beep, clatter!
All sorts of strange sound effects came from the television. Miss Flora sat on the sofa with her shoulder pressed against Jiang Han's, both hands gripping the controller as she played Marite Racing.
This young lady had also drunk too much.
After all, even if Marga was weak liquor, three whole barrels were enough to turn a witch with a decent tolerance into a drunken cat.
Jiang Han did her best to keep her thoughts together as she stared at Natalie, who was sprawled across the table and mumbling "wuli gwala" in place of actual language. The other woman's backless pantyhose outfit ran all the way up to just above her hips, and her