Rong Zhi slightly turned her face, her beautifully shaped fox eyes squinting with curiosity: "You're even willing to sell that, do you still have a conscience?"
The strong man: "..."
Even though what you say is true, why does it sound so wrong to me?
Rong Zhi retrieved a porcelain bottle from her jacket pocket, her voice overly indifferent: "Feed him this before he goes on stage."
The strong man took it, opened the lid, and sniffed it. It was refreshing and even slightly pleasant.
"What's this?"
Rong Zhi, expressionless: "Something that'll earn you the money."
-
Black market fighting arena.
The thick scent of blood filled the air, surrounded by violent and terrifyingly agitated people. Rong Zhi sat calmly at the highest point, as the administrator served her the most rich and intoxicating red wine.
