Zhou Chuan had not yet killed a single demon and sat dead last in the rankings, yet no one pitied him. In fact, recalling his obsession with wine and meat made them grind their teeth in hatred.
Bored and idle, Zhou Chuan began eating and drinking. Amidst the heavy stench of blood, his appetite somehow flared right up.
Right now, he was practically begging to be beaten up: limbs sprawled out, sleeping soundly.
Chapter 87