Sonnaren lit a pipe here.
This tobacco was not the shoddy cigarettes made by the rats in the city today.
The tobacco he smoked was the product of the humans who lived before the gray fog took over the continent.
He leaned back on the couch and looked up at the ceiling, the smoke billowing before his eyes.
This thing could calm his mind, but the pleasure and excitement it brought was much weaker than the laughter pills.
Sonalen did not like to eat the laughter pills because he was tired of them.
“Did you encounter something troublesome again?”
A woman in her forties walked out from the corner of the room. She slowly walked to Sonalen’s side and sat beside him as she said softly.
“Number one... I might be killed by my sister.”
Sonalon put his hand on the woman’s shoulder. This Woman’s identity was one of those despicable humans, but Sonalon had an unknown relationship with her.
He was one of the four rulers of this city, the incarnation of the gray fog.
