Chen Lun stated his requirements with a perfectly straight face.
An imagined scene flashed through his mind-
Players turned themselves into suicide bombers, shouting strange things like "White Emperor's Holy Sword," "Self-Destructing Nascent Soul," and "Ura!" as they dragged their targets to the grave with them, perishing together and "singing and dancing" with their enemies amid the flames. It was a truly tear-jerking sight.
For some reason, Chen Lun began to look forward to it.
"All right, Mr. Jack."
Connie took the sheet of paper and carefully put it away.
"As it happens, most of the knowledge I gleaned from that oil painting concerns flames. With the experience I gained forging [Connie No. 1], I believe I can produce a prototype very soon."
Confidence shone on her face.
Chen Lun gave her a thumbs-up and encouraged her:
"You can do it."
Evening.
After his bath, Chen Lun was about to read by the window for a while as he waited for dinner.
Holding a towel and drying his dripping hair, he walked straight out of the bathroom.
When he looked up, he froze.
At some point, Froy had entered his room. She was sitting quietly on the little sofa, her head raised toward him.
Her fair cheeks were slightly flushed.
The last light outside the window fell over her, tinting her black cutwork dress orange-red. The entire scene looked wonderfully peaceful and elegant.
"What brings you here, Froy?"
Chen Lun walked nonchalantly to the bed, set down his towel, and picked up his folded shirt.
Sensing his movements, Froy pressed her lips together.
Chen Lun was fastening his buttons when he suddenly heard Froy's faint voice behind him:
"I like you..."
Chen Lun's hands paused, and a strange expression crossed his face.
He finished putting on his