Davis followed alongside the Handsome Giant Consortium with leisurely steps, his long white hair swaying behind him like drifting silk. The mildly intimidating crow mask covering the upper half of his face only added to the strange aura he carried. Combined with the black sect-like robe bearing the mark 'Dragon', he looked every bit like a hidden expert's eccentric descendant wandering the world out of boredom.
The streets of the Eighth Bastion City's inner city were bustling.
Massive transport constructs hovered above the ground while magical beasts dragged luxurious carriages through the wide roads. Cultivators of every walk traversed the streets, from armored mercenaries soaked in blood aura to refined alchemists whose robes smelled of medicinal fragrance. The market noise rose endlessly like crashing tides.
Yet wherever the handsome fatty walked, the crowd instinctively gave way.
Davis liked this feeling very much. As long as no one disturbed him, they wouldn't need to die.
