Drinking over corpses.
Always makes one happy.
Julius Reed once discussed this matter with Whitaker Dog, who explained that killing stimulates the nerves, and combined with alcohol, this pleasure can be infinitely amplified.
But Julius Reed isn't like that.
His heart has long been as cold as his sword.
No matter who his opponent is, they always end up as a corpse.
He's long been accustomed to such endings.
"Come in."
Julius Reed glanced at the sword stuck in the door.
It was the one that appeared at Moon's Villa.
No matter where Julius Reed goes, this sword always follows.
But now.
He knows there's someone outside the door.
"The old servant congratulates the lord!"
The white-haired Graham Will pushed the door open, smiling as he walked up to Julius Reed.
He knelt, kowtowed.
The etiquette was very thorough.
The etiquette of the Ten Thousand Mountain Alliance.
"Have you been placing this sword here all along?" Julius Reed pointed at the cold sword at the door.
