The liquid in the container holding the strongest and last Garsan, Broomf, had gone from looking clear to being tinted with the color of fire. Now it was turning clear once again.
The Garsan was also looking different now. Seeing him only looking like a famine refugee now, one could stop fearing that his bones might snap at any moment like when he had only been a bag of skin keeping some bones together.
Despite being skinny, his skin was smooth to the point of inducing jealousy in women's hearts. His head had returned to its shiny appearance, and the traces of the lean muscles he used to sport could be observed.
Broomf was naked, but the strong female Macan who had taken over the role of leadership didn't bat an eye. She observed with critical focus the improvement showing the gamble had succeeded. With her arms still crossed in front of her chest, she clenched her fist subtly.
