"Deal! It's a deal!"
A moment ago, he was still greedily eyeing it, the very image of a miser.
In the next moment, Ye Buchun flung the excrement away, hugging the big iron tree to his chest. His cheeks constantly rubbed against it, unable to let go.
"Whoosh!"
Ye Qiyu, without making a sound, caught the excrement with an eerie gust of wind before storing it in his own ring.
The onlooking clan members were all in an uproar, raising the atmosphere of the trading event to a new pinnacle.
"King of Grass Mowing Demons? Why do I have no clue about this race's name?"
"I do have some impression. It seems that it is a powerful demonic race from the Near Ancient Era, with too few members, once hovering on the brink of extinction."
