Li Mubai, the 32nd generation swordsman disciple of Changbai Mountain, kills one person in ten steps, leaves no trace for thousands of miles, indulges in the world, and drinks three hundred glasses of wine.
Chic, wanton, red silk ribbon, white swordsman.
There is no one in the world who cannot be called a genius.
This is in the game.
But no one said they would dress up as game characters!
Li Mubai felt comfortable wearing a full-level large size, until——
He found that his natal sword had turned into a tennis racket.
Li Mubai:?
Are you sick? !
Whose swordsman is holding a tennis racket?
＊
Hyotei came with someone even more pretentious than Atobe.
He had red silk hair, was dressed in white clothes, and looked at the bright moon with melancholy and lonely eyes.
Everyone said: What you have in your hand is a tennis racket.
But he said: A swordsman has a sword in his heart, what thing in his hand cannot be a sword?
Tennis is also like a sword.
A sword coming from the west:
"The hall is full of flowers and three thousand guests are drunk, and fourteen states are cold with one sword."
The tennis ball passed through a stunning and bright arc of light. Wherever the arc passed, there was a slight flicker of light gold, which was as if it were an illusion and seemed to be real, as if it were a dazzling display of flowers seen by the drunken eyes of three thousand prosperous tourists.
And Li Mubai stood there, his white clothes were whiter than snow, only the red silk at the ends of his hair was shaking slightly.
Hyokui: He's so good at pretending.
Li Mubai: Who knows, in order to pretend to be this, my legs are shaking like a sieve.
Purpose: Culture comes first
