To seek the reason, the Party Guard Corps would not tolerate idlers; incompetence was the original sin.
To earn promotion and importance, loyalty alone was far from enough; he needed strength, the kind of strength that would let him stand tall and proud.
"But..."
"There's no 'but' about it, they all succeeded, and so can I!" Christian stripped off his shirt, revealing a strong body covered with stitch marks.
He thrust a tube of Devil's Blood into Rolle's hands, forcefully saying, "I've written my will already. If it works, the credit is yours; if it fails, the fault is my own."
Do you think the higher-ups will read your will?
Rolle felt a chill in his heart. Under Christian's hawk-like gaze, he had no choice but to lead the team and start the blood transfusion ritual.
