That lady struck a pose designed to showcase an exquisite jawline, wiggling her way over to Fushiguro.
A pair of short, stubby pig trotters—considerably rougher than Fushiguro’s own hands—pushed into a cliché orchid hand-seal and took aim at Megumi through thin air: "Mister, I admit it. You've successfully caught my attention."
Fushiguro felt his stomach churning violently. He had the distinct impression that if he stayed for another second, the hot pot he'd just eaten would come *yue* right back up his esophagus.
Chapter 235