No difference? Qin Fen nearly bit his tongue. The feel was completely different, okay? And there was no warmth. Add the voice and the way it talked-damn it, how could he call that no difference?
Qin Fen could not understand what went on in this guy's head. But as an upright man, he could not stand by and watch a promising young man sink into depravity. Big Chef was simply that conscientious-a good man.
"Are you under a lot of pressure?" Qin Fen felt there had to be a reason for this sort of thing.
Pressure? That question struck a chord with Kunpeng. Looking at Dongwang Gong now, he wanted to say, Just seeing you puts me under crushing pressure! Back when I was working to bring the Demon Tribe to power, I offended all those righteous cultivators, and everyone wanted me dead. Fine, I could live with that. But just when I was finally about to make it big, you left me half crippled. Now that I'm in the Mortal Realm, you still won't leave me alone. How could I not be under pressure?
"A lot!" Kunpeng meant that from the bottom of his heart, his voice steeped in misery. I'm a mighty Great Sage of the Demon Tribe. When did I ever sink so low that these mortal ants could bully me? It's all thanks to you! Just thinking of the stun gun made the old demon's asshole clench. And then there was that psychiatric hospital, giving him treatment every single day.
They asked if he was crazy, and he told them he was not, but not one of the bastards believed him. They even made him solve math problems. *What the hell is finding the length of a triangle's side with the Pythagorean theorem? Fuck that! How