Duanmu Yan sat behind a square table piled high with scrolls, flipping through them one by one. In front of the table stood several members of the Demon Clan, completely disguised as humans; they were the highest echelon responsible for the various espionage agencies.
After a long while, Duanmu Yan slightly furrowed his brows and spoke, "Magical fruits?"
After he had killed five holders of the Fengtian Order, he left Great Yong and returned to the Demon Clan for three months. To his surprise, upon returning to Great Yong after three months, he did not encounter the scene he had imagined of a bleak wasteland littered with countless famine victims.
The desolate wasteland was indeed there, but how could there be no deaths from starvation under a condition of total crop failure?
All because of these so-called magical fruits?
