Library

Listen, crows are crying on the treetops, which is a memorial of life; look, the thick smoke is rising in the distance, it is the ashes of monsters; smell, a breathtaking fragrance, it is the smell of being intoxicated with hunting. When the gunfire rang out and the fire engulfed the earth, don't forget that they may be numb people born with bloodthirsty, they may be nobles from poor families, or they may be slaves sold to a foreign land. When the gunfire rings out, all these are just consumables you use to enhance your prestige, and perhaps even their names will not be remembered. My name is Bliss, I am a bounty hunter, and my journey continues...