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Chapter 213: Asking for an autograph, but the crowd just can’t wait
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Chapter 215: You sure you wanna do that?
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... s deciding which way to ooze first. The stench was indescribable — like a soup made from sin, rotting onions, and gym socks.
Judge’s stomach churned as if his guts were trying to file for independent citizenship. He tightened his grip on Golden Eagle, his fingers sweaty, trembling, every instinct screaming at him to run.
"Okay... big, ugly, smells like a cursed cheese shop — this is gonna be fun," he muttered, adjusting his stance.
The abomination took a step forward. Jud ...
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