*Ah, I almost feel nostalgic…this rotting smell. *
Eric's thoughts seemed more perverted than usual, but the motive was simple.
*Where something rots, there is a sewer rat.
The slogan works like a charm. *
He was now walking in the slums of Zolgas.
Eric had waited for this moment for a long, long time.
As the strategist he was, information was bread for his malicious mind.
If a swordsman desired to go to a blacksmith to get a sharper blade, Eric went there to get deadly rumors and truths.
His eyes shined like a child the Christmas morning.
His brain was salivating, thinking in the thousands of ways that would have brought him to his desired outcome and the most efficient out of those.
The best thing?
This information network was present in every city of the human kingdom and collecting and sharing information through tamed rats gave them this specific name.
