In a corner of a bustling metropolis within the Great Xia Empire,
the dim, flickering lights of a boisterous tavern cast shifting shadows on the varied faces of its patrons.
Just then, a burly man with a brutish, fleshy face, his temper seemingly set ablaze by strong liquor,
SLAMMED a hand on the table, making the cups dance and spilling liquor that soaked the wood.
His eyes, wide as bronze bells, looked as if they were about to pop out of their sockets.
Veins pulsed on his forehead like writhing snakes as he roared, "We have a deep-seated blood feud with the White-Red Empire! Every child knows that!
So why in the hell have we lost our minds and decided to go protect them?
Their own backyard is on fire, a total mess of chaos and turmoil, so just let it burn!
Isn't this a godsend for us? A perfect opportunity to profit from their conflict?
I've racked my brain, and I just can't figure it out.
