Field Fight

"What are these?"

"What do these mean? Those are the famous foreigners!"

Toraman stared at the figures walking around like a bewildered duckling, unaware of what he was getting into.

"Sukrucuk brother, their level is almost the same as us; take two slots and see what happens!"

The ambition of not cutting Fallen has long thrown our tank. Leaving his weapon in the Origin Village, he had a standard mace in his hand and had no qualms about hitting one of the backpacking quartets on the head.

"You traitors, come here!"

When our tank cried out, it started walking towards it in the three slots in the vicinity. In this cocktail, glasses-types were walking around with folders, men in sunglasses with Bond bags, and a group of girls with microphones walking around in bikinis.

"Toraman, get ready; we are starting!"