All the Netherworld demons stared blankly at their commander and then began to cheer.
They ignored the glint of cunning that passed through the eyes of the nine fallen elves.
As the Blood River Commander floated in bliss, Old Liu just finished tying a Windsor Tie with an extremely gentlemanly air.
Mr. Jabbar, the butler, raised his head high, picked up the white cloth draped on his arm, gently brushed the dandruff off the lord's shoulder, and examined the mirror again meticulously. He then pulled out his red handkerchief, deftly folded it into a floral shape, and placed it in the black tunic pocket on the boss's chest, removing the three pens originally there.
"Is this going to war or a matchmaking event?" Liu Zhenhuan chuckled, picking up a shell box, scooping out a large dollop of ointment, and meticulously applying it to his scalp.
