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

Old Hunter was the eldest in Gel Town of Sebins in North County, and he was highly respected by everyone.


Of course, it wasn't just because of Old Hunter's age and charming personality, nor because he was amiable, but also because the mayor of Gel Town was his adopted son, the sheriff was another of his adopted sons, and the tax officer was yet another adopted son.


And today, the three adopted sons had gathered together, preparing to celebrate their foster father's 70th birthday.


Food and drinks were not a problem for the three important figures of Gel Town.


Even the fresh fruits and vegetables, rarely seen during winter in North County, were easily obtainable for these three figures, but their old father had 'run away from home.'


'Dear sons, your old dad has gone to the Red Rose Restaurant in South Los to eat casu marzu cheese.'


Reading the note, Gel Town's three dignitaries looked at each other, each showing a bitter smile.


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