The aroma of roast chicken seemed to linger in the air, but the atmosphere among the four had quietly changed.
Third Brother gulped down his half of the roast chicken in a few bites and wiped his greasy mouth contentedly, utterly unaware of what had been "added" to his meal. Loa led the way, chatting intermittently with the mage "Lan" in the middle. Lan chose his words carefully, talking mostly about irrelevant things, such as which taverns in Fenlai City served rich ale and which districts had more jobs posted. He said nothing about his background or the purpose of this trip. Even his name had been given only vaguely as "Lan," with no way to tell whether it was real.
Luoyang played along outwardly, but inwardly he was silently counting the time. Wind-Thunder Battle-qi circulated quietly within him, and his muscles maintained a subtle tension beneath his seemingly relaxed stride, like a drawn bow.
Sure enough, they had not gone far before Third Brother, bringing up the rear, knitted his thick brows. A familiar, embarrassing gurgle rolled through his belly, followed by an impossible-to-ignore heaviness in his lower abdomen and an urgent need to relieve himself.
"Urgh..." He grunted and clamped his legs together, trying to endure it. But the urge came swiftly and fiercely, like water bursting through a dam, instantly sweeping away his resolve. His face turned somewhat purple from holding it in. He had no choice but to lean toward Lan ahead of him and mutter in a lowered voice-though he thought he was whispering, he was still clearly audible-"B-big brother... I kind of... need the privy."
Lan immediately frowned, his sharp gaze shooting like lightning toward Loa's back. *Poison? Impossible! The brat ate it himself, and he's been under my eye the whole time... Did