"My only choice now is to wait until one day I drink myself to death here, or some vengeful little punk comes knocking and takes me out."
His words were filled with self-mockery and a bone-deep exhaustion.
Wu Heng ignored his complaints and merely raised a finger.
At his fingertip, a lush green glow brimming with immense life energy quietly emerged, and even the decayed air around them seemed to freshen for an instant.
At the same time, in the palm of his other hand, a thread of pure, dark, yet incomparably powerful demonic energy coiled and writhed like a living thing.
"Complete vision, sharp hearing," Wu Heng's gaze swept over David's blind eye and somewhat impaired ear, "and a body freed from the torment of old injuries—one even stronger than it was at its peak. Using demonic power to arm a demon hunter."
David Xavier's dead-water-like lone eye instantly burst with an incredulous light.
He stared fixedly at the life energy at Wu Heng's fingertip and the demonic power in his palm, his breathing abruptly growing heavy.
Desire—his desire for strength and health, which he had thought long buried—was reignited like the fires of hell.
This aged, decaying old lion, reduced to being toyed with by hyenas, had seen hope of living a new life.
"The price. What is it?" His voice remained hoarse, but a note of taut vigilance had entered it.
He had dealt with supernatural forces his entire life and knew full well that there was no such thing as a free lunch. The more enticing the offer, the more terrifying the price behind it tended to be.
"What you can still offer now, aside from the hatred of evil entities, is your experience in dealing with them."
"So—the Demon Hunter Guild's vice president." Wu Heng