I let the genie out of the bottle

Without further hesitation, it opened its mouth and swallowed the larva that it had been eagerly anticipating.

Then, to his horror, he discovered that something sharp seemed to have pierced his mouth.

The pain caused her to struggle involuntarily.

"Wow!"

The sound of rushing water broke the tranquility of the forest.

"It seems my skills haven't declined at all."

A slightly smug voice rang out from the lakeside.

There were quite a few fish, each 15 to 20 centimeters long and weighing one or two kilograms, crammed into a bucket and swimming around frantically.

It was an old man. He closed his eyes slightly and skillfully removed the fish from the hook, casually tossing it into the bucket.

The elderly man was dressed in a black suit jacket, a shirt, and a tie. His hair was neatly combed back, and he looked every bit the intellectual and wise gentleman who had come here to enjoy life.

Somewhat incongruous with his elegant and gentlemanly appearance was the somewhat old-fashioned wooden stool he was sitting on.

"Fishing is like that; you need not only skill, but also luck and patience. And I happen to have all of those."

"I like playing chess, calligraphy, music, and fishing."

The old man closed his eyes, a blissful smile on his face, and spoke slowly, seemingly quite content.

he continued.

"At the same time, I also like running, hiking, swimming, and fighting. These sports may be too strenuous for older people."

"However, fighting is actually quite similar to fishing. You lure your opponent with something, test your patience, and seize the opportunity."

As he spoke, he rebaited the hook and then cast it back into the water.

"You agree with what I said, right?"

The old man turned his head to look to one side.

He opened his eyes, which were emerald green, but unlike ordinary eyes, they had vertical pupils like a wolf's, containing a strong will and madness, completely different from his elegant and gentle gentlemanly demeanor just now.

Sasha Dejansdar Voban, the oldest god-slayer, is over 250 years old and a savage and ferocious demon king like a wolf.

A figure suddenly appeared beside him.

The tattered black robe he wore was riddled with holes, seemingly torn apart by the teeth of countless wild beasts, revealing a mangled body. Most importantly, his face was expressionless, his eyes were vacant, and his pupils were dilated, making him look like a corpse that had not yet decomposed.

Servants of death.

The power to enslave humans, demons, and divine beasts that one has personally killed, treating them as the dead.

"Ah, so you've obtained information about the new god-slayer."

Marquis Voban sat leisurely on his small stool, continuing to watch the fish floats on the water.

"It's okay, wait a minute, let's talk about it after I catch this fish. Remember to bring them to the kitchen later, it's my dinner tonight."

A moment later, he would sometimes casually toss a fish into the bucket.

"What exactly is it? Tell me."

Voban took out a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his hands, and tossed it aside.

"Oh? He was actually defeated by the newly emerged Godslayer? That sword-wielding kid?"

As the servant of death spoke, Marquis Voban raised an eyebrow, revealing a surprised expression.

"That's amazing, I think that kid has a lot of potential."

He spoke in a calm tone, as if he were an elderly gentleman lamenting the loss of his juniors.

However, his pale green eyes and the ferocious smile on his lips revealed that this was not the case.

"And then... what did you say? That kid with the sword—"

For the first time, the Marquis of Voban showed a shocked expression.

Subsequently.

"Hahahaha, hahahaha—"

A burst of hearty laughter echoed throughout the forest.

A moment later, a magician received the intelligence from Italy from the servant of death.

He opened the intelligence report and checked it. The report did not specify a date, and the words "Return to one's true nature" were written crookedly on each page.

He couldn't sleep no matter what he did, and after carefully reading it for half the night, he finally saw the words between the lines: the whole book was filled with the two words "women's clothing".

P.S.: Please vote! Please vote!

Chapter Fifty-Two: Hello, you flea!

"I see. That newly born god-slayer fought with that guy who uses a sword, and he actually won."

The young man sitting at the table listened to his subordinate magician's report with a slight frown, clearly deep in thought.

He sat with his legs crossed, had neatly combed black hair, wore a black jacket, and exuded the air of a refined young nobleman.

He was none other than Alexander Gascoigne, the god-slayer of the British Empire.

He nodded slightly, allowing his subordinate to continue.

He himself picked up the teacup in front of him, savoring it slowly while listening to his subordinates' reports.

then.

"puff--"

He spat out a mouthful of tea.

"Cough cough cough, cough cough."

The noble young man, known as the Black Prince, coughed a few times in a disheveled manner, ignoring the tea-soaked clothes on his clothes, and stared wide-eyed.

"What did you just say?"

Alexander Gascoigne asked incredulously.

The subordinate kneeling before him resisted the urge to wipe the tea off his face, maintaining his usual calm demeanor.

Then, he repeated what he had just said.

"Women's clothing".

"Hahahahahahaha!"

A burst of laughter suddenly erupted from the black prince's mouth, echoing throughout the entire building and making many people's hearts tighten.

Although this god-slayer is relatively rational, he is still a demon king who is above humanity.

"Hahaha, sorry, I lost my composure." After laughing heartily for a while, Alexander Gascoigne forced himself to stop laughing and waved to his kneeling subordinate, "You can continue."

His subordinate's lips twitched, and he lowered his head to look at the report in his hand.

He had undergone rigorous training, and no matter what happened, he would not laugh unless he couldn't help it.

After all, the other party is a god-slayer, and no matter how outrageous his actions are, it's not his place to laugh at him.

If you behave too outrageously, you might bring disaster upon yourself.

Therefore, upon receiving this information, he couldn't resist with immense willpower...

Fortunately, no one noticed.

"That Italian god-slayer, the Sword King, Salvatore Tony, he wants to cross-dress..."

At this point, the subordinate's expression turned strange; he pursed his lips, clearly looking somewhat weary.

Then, he continued talking.

"To debut as an idol."

The result of this statement is...

"puff!"

The Black Prince, who had just wanted to take a sip of tea to calm himself down, spat it out again.

Moreover, looking at the photo of the Sword King that was included with the intelligence report...

"Hahahaha—"

What bad luck! I got sprayed with tea again.

The subordinate thought with a sense of loss.

Abruptly, like a record suddenly cut off, the laughter stopped abruptly.

Immediately afterwards, he stood up, snatched the report from his subordinate's hand, which had been soaked with tea, and began to read it word by word.

The young nobleman with black hair and black clothes narrowed his eyes, his expression somewhat serious, or rather, troubled.

"It seems that my new kin is quite troublesome, both in terms of personality and power."

He sighed.

He never imagined that the fool who only had a sword in his heart would suddenly develop a love for wearing women's clothing.

Moreover, he actually wants to debut as an idol!

Therefore, there is only one possibility for such a bizarre event.

"It can actually affect the mind of the Sword King, a god-slayer? This is truly troublesome!"

He sighed deeply.

"Lu Ye...is that right?"

Although he didn't know exactly what the other party's powers were, he had already identified Lu Ye as someone he wanted to avoid direct conflict with as much as possible.

"However, there are some aspects of this matter that can be used."

He stood up, his brow furrowed, and paced back and forth in the office.

"I wonder how long this power will last. But if I could try to help that Sword King guy this time..."

Although god-slayers are always ruthless, the transformation between being inseparable and becoming enemies can happen in an instant.

However, if he could get the other party to acknowledge that they owed him something, it would still be somewhat useful. Especially since Alexander Gasco had something he wanted to accomplish because of this person!

Thinking of this, he slowly walked to the window, still somewhat hesitant.

Is it worth doing this?

"Let's go and take a look first, no matter what."

Thinking this, tiny bolts of lightning appeared around Alexander Gascoigne, and he used his superhuman speed to fly out of the window.

Not only Marquis Voban and the Black Prince, but all the other godkillers also received the news through various means—except for one person.

"With shifty eyes and a sly smile, what kind of behavior is this!"

Before the boy, who was trying to suppress his laughter, could even speak, he was slapped down from the mountain.

As he slept, his mental fatigue gradually subsided. Lu Ye suddenly opened his eyes and unconsciously touched his chest.

"You're awake? You've been under so much mental strain, I suggest you rest a little longer."

A voice, carrying not just concern, but something else entirely, rang in my ears.

"That's enough."

As Lu Ye spoke, he slowly stood up and straightened his slightly disheveled clothes.

"Alright. But next time, it's better to be a little more careful, since constantly pushing yourself to the limit isn't a good thing."

"Mozlis said slowly."

Lu Ye did not answer, but pushed the door open and left.

......

A mansion that appears to be quite old.