Horn extended his hand, brushing over the fabric spread out on the table.
His fingertips first touched a layer of cool slickness, and then the dense texture.
It was neither as compact as wool nor as coarse as linen; rather, it had a feel almost akin to skin.
He picked up a piece of the fabric and held it under the sunlight, which surprisingly displayed a faint silver hue.
"Are these... all made from the giant spider's silk?" Horn raised his eyes, looking at Schreiman who stood opposite.
This leader of the Bald Head Secret Faction still maintained his bald, ape-like Tarzan appearance.
His manners were still impeccable. He stretched his hand out, tucking hair back into his sleeve, then picked up the fabric in front of him and gently pulled it, introducing it as he did.
"This isn't giant spider silk, it's silver gland spider silk we've cultivated; no matter how you struggle, it won't break. It's great for wiping feet, face, and mouth..."
