"I've had it with those old hags," the Rat King Phil said, sitting before a table in the temporary bar's private room, his face showing a considerable amount of irritation. "I always have the most work to do, and yet I always have the least money for operations. If I don't get more funds for rat food to win over my rodent subjects, they'll start throwing fits again."
In the makeshift bar, Rat King Rafam Phil complained bitterly while drinking, about the organization's women who splurged lavishly. Spittle flew uncontrollably when he got to the particularly outrageous parts, his arms and legs gesturing wildly.
Jiang Shu, observing his antics, had already quietly put on a mask.
He was worried about contagious diseases.
"Uh-huh." Jiang Shu let Rat King Phil ramble on. He had already confirmed that there was nothing unusual with Liu Tingruo's situation. Combining this with the feedback from earlier Spirit Technique sessions, it was clear that this Rat King hadn't deceived him.
