The Husky was truly intimidated and kept growling lowly, but didn't dare to attack.
"Handsome, I'm done!"
The short man killed the mongrel, grabbed his clothes, and wiped the blade with them.
"Wang Bing, twenty-nine years old, an O-typed male, passes by hair salons several times a month, thinking about going in to get it 'solved,' but in the end, he can't bring himself to do it."
The sudden outburst startled the short man.
"What the heck?"
The short man looked at the Bronze Sword in his hands, honestly, if it weren't for the fact that everyone was dealing with a massacre, a situation so dire that no one would care about these things, he would die of embarrassment.
Because the voice was talking about the secret he least wanted to be mentioned.
"Damn it?"
The man in slippers and his girlfriend had already killed the dog and went to the side. He had been paying attention to this sword because he felt it was something good.
