Ethan noticed the wary tension in Inugoro's posture and offered a disarming smile.
"Let me introduce myself," he said casually. "My name is Ethan. And you… Underworld Hound Tribe, right? Inugoro?"
"Uh… yes!" Inugoro replied, eyes flicking over Ethan's face—calm, youthful, even harmless. It was hard to reconcile that this very man had just wielded a giant ten-meter rhinoceros carcass like a weapon, tearing through the battlefield like some god of slaughter.
"Relax," Ethan chuckled. "No need to be so stiff. I heard that mule-faced guy mention your Underworld Hound Tribe is on pretty good terms with humans?"
At that moment, Inugoro felt an unexpected surge of gratitude toward that old rival he'd feuded with for years. Maybe… maybe that comment had just saved his life.
"Uh… well, not that close," he muttered. "We just—sometimes trade supplies. That's all."
Though Ethan emanated no killing intent now, the image of him casually mowing down enemies like wheat stalks was hard to shake.
