"Sorry," the 'Sandbox Painter' said, "Let's do as Li Changzhou said: ask for information first before taking action on the next tribe."
"So annoying," the 'Street Dancer' muttered, "But I might still need his help later, so let's go with that."
"I'll send some more people to look for the waterfall," 'Drawing Her Own Book' took out a pressure pen and a digital screen.
With a few swishes, her own scantily clad figure, as if stepping out of a drawing, flew out of the digital screen page by page, drifting away like paper.
"Let's continue," ten players advanced towards the next tribe.
◇
Southwestern front.
"Do not laugh at those drunk on the battlefield; how many return from the ancient wars."
"Through battles in the yellow sand with golden armor on, not ceasing until Loulan is captured."
Rings of poetry flowed from the 'Poet's' mouth, imbuing 'Power Brother'.
'Power Brother' held a ten-meter-long alloy forged pole, just thick enough to embrace.
