Warm and delicious food transformed Bartlett from a cold, numb zombie back into a living person.
However, the feeling of being alive wasn't that great. Fatigue and soreness crept out from every corner of his body, and sleepiness and drowsiness sounded the charge. The last bit of strength in his body was all concentrated in his stomach, eager to create more reinforcements. But the arrival of reinforcements always took time, and at this point, the barbarian's brain was almost lost.
Bartlett leaned on his chair, ungracefully burping, his state somewhat dazed. The white-haired guard opposite him was constantly opening and closing his lips, as if he were saying something to him.
But those words knocked his eardrum, but failed to enter his mind, just echoing around his ears over and over, mixed with a little girlish, crisp voice, which did not catch Bartlett's attention.
I need some more alcohol to sober up, he thought.
