Conch?
The Qing father and son looked curiously at the palm-sized conch, wondering why their subordinate had brought back this item, not understanding its purpose.
Just as Qing Zizhu was about to pick it up for inspection, the small conch expelled its inner flesh, and a man's voice, eerily familiar, was heard.
"They're nothing more than lowly mercenaries, each resembling bandits. Every time our Yanyue Chamber of Commerce's steward went to the Xuan Beast Ridge, they groveled and begged to sell us their Dark Beasts, if it weren't for our chamber, those mercenaries wouldn't even have a meal to eat."
Bursts of hearty laughter accompanied the voice emanating from the parrot snail in Qing Zizhu's hands.
With a clatter, the parrot snail in Qing Zizhu's hands fell to the ground.
Qingfeng's face turned green.
Qing Zizhu also wore a face full of terror.
