"You don't need to blame yourself. This isn't your fault, and I won't punish everyone. Although this milk is sour, it can still be made into other food."
Carrying all the milk out, Eric saw Gas using all his might to carry out a milk bucket weighing a hundred catties, standing aside nervously, panting from exhaustion.
Seeing him like this, Eric spoke up to comfort him.
Gas relaxed a little, suspicion rising in his heart. Could it be cheese? Do beastmen even know how to make cheese?
But this young beastman was the patriarch and was so friendly, looking just like the neighbor's son before he became a slave.
Only that he was whiter and a bit more beautiful.
If not for being told he was a beastman, Gas would definitely think this was a young master from some noble family.
It was just that the impression of beastmen in human eyes was very backward, and passing through beastman tribes on the way had confirmed this impression.
