Rusty Dragon

The protracted 'witch hunting' had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years' War,  and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise.
Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said—
"Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!"

They all call me Great Master

Arthur and Malz devised four hand gestures to deal with different situations—


Pinky: There's something, but not dangerous.


Index finger: Very dangerous, go all out.


Thumb: Extremely dangerous, prepare to run.


The presentation of the four fingers could include, but was not limited to raising, stroking, tapping, and so on.


In the world before him, raising the middle finger held the same meaning as Arthur knew it, and sometimes, it was even more expressive.


Especially when Arthur saw Marinda flipping the bird, he couldn't help but think off-color thoughts.


The police chief, noticing Arthur tapping his index finger lightly on his sleeve cuff, instantly tensed his muscles. Almost subconsciously, the chief's gaze turned toward the window—


The White Bird District, which had just experienced an explosion, was still eerily quiet.


Chapter 123 Whoosh!