"F*ck, Brother-in-law, are you that fierce? I've seen you selling equipment for three hours. Didn't you take out the dwarves' 'hometown'? Where are we going to get so many broken weapons?"
Richard collected money while he lay down, and [Where's Your F*cking Italian Cannon] sent him a private message.
"I made a small deal. Do you want it? I can help you keep three to five thousand..."
[Where's Your F*cking Italian Cannon: You motherf*cking! Three to five thousand? I'm jealous. You're so rich, Brother-in-law. Do you have any humanity?]
[Sigh. It's a pity I got a few high-level equipment blueprints from the dungeon. I'm still forging them myself. So I don't have use for them for the time being…]
Richard's mouth twitched. If he wanted to show off, he could've just said so.
[Where's Your F*cking Italian Cannon] seemed to have thought of something and added.
