"So you mean, in the future only let the fatty sit at the core of the battle formation?" Zhang Ji Xin reopened, his tone softer than before.
The Fat Wizard puffed out his chest proudly, glancing around arrogantly.
Dylan looked at Zheng Qing, "Aren't you going to try? It's your turn to be at the formation core this time... Don't worry, even if you transform into a giant woman, nobody will laugh at you."
Looking at Mr. Blood Werewolf's small fangs showing between his lips, Zheng Qing felt a surge of impulse to pull them out with pliers and grind them into dust.
"Need any help? I happened to bring a bottle of garlic extract." The diviner of the Atonement Hunting Team considerately reminded.
"No need."
