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Steampunk Era: Mad Abield

For a long time, Malin always felt that Fate had been quite generous to him. Although he had to face that life-threatening job every day, as long as he had the lovely Leopard Girl cooking delicious food for him daily, and as long as there was meat to eat and cats to stroke, life wasn't too unbearable. Working a bit harder and facing some difficulties on the job weren't really an issue for a man. Moreover, being able to live two lives meant one shouldn't have too high demands, right, Mr. Different-Kind? Having said that, and without waiting for an answer, the young man snapped his fingers, and the white flame on his fingertip lit the tobacco in his other hand, then he flicked it towards the non-human entity on the stake. Welcome to Abield, to witness the last splendor of the steampunk era. And the madness.

Half-step Purgatory · Sci-fi
Not enough ratings
725 Chs

One hundred seventeen: Who is plucking the guitar strings_2

"May I follow you?" Malin asked.

"You may, but this time is extremely dangerous, and I don't recommend that you take your girls with you," the old Bishop said, then looked at Jessica: "Especially you, young lady, you can't even counter the most basic Friendly Spell, I really don't feel at ease about you."

"I... I understand," Jessica replied with a resigned nod.

"Then no problem, Jessica, stay with everyone at the Church and be safe," Malin said and then followed the old Bishop towards the back hall—where the old man would gather the Punishers.

......

Casaman finished his last bite of the pine cake, feeling his observation had been sufficient; No. 799 did indeed look like a sheep should, he could try confirming it again tonight.

With this thought in mind, he saw the lad and his Werewolf girl.

They seemed to be heading back to the Goddess of Harvest Church, which plunged Casaman into memories once again—sometimes, he really envied the young.