Yang Jing was nearly knocked over by the stench the moment he entered the private room. He carried the sword to his seat, his hands still cradling the Demon-slaying Sword.
"You're Si Bing? A half-transformed runt like you is worthy of sitting at the same table as me?"
A burly Great Demon with coarse features and a bare chest, revealing a patch of hair over his heart, tossed aside the human heart he was chewing on and spoke, his tone full of defiance.
Yang Jing glanced at the bloody food on the table, an inconspicuous glint of cold light flashing in his eyes. He simply closed them, pretending he hadn't heard the Great Demon's provocation.
The Great Demon's brutish nature flared up, and he moved to grapple with Yang Jing, but another Great Demon next to him held him back.
