Douluo Dalu: The System Helps Me Claim the Goddesses

The morning mist had yet to fully lift, but the Martial Soul shop branch at the eastern end of Holy Soul Village was already packed with children around ten years old. Outside the hall of gray-tiled roofs and blue-brick walls, Old Jack leaned on his cane, his face full of eager anticipation. Every so often, he raised a hand to wipe the beads of sweat from his brow.