... then quite a few antique weapons will be in the hands of Goldwolf for cheap.

But they didn't line up in the 'Slumdog Mart' store.

Join all of Osama's collections…!

But we can no longer turn back Genocide Fang.

Because it has spit out most of the antique weapons, already possessed by the gorgeous smart of Anthraean territory.

If this doesn't give any results, it's going to be a big deal.

The lion was going to hunt down the wild dog, but the other way around he was.

If this happens, we'll have to put out a fake Holy Sword: Godsmile Blade 11 (Eleven)......!

Genocide fangs are so determined.

Because now that I have tremendous trust from Osama, I thought that if I even sold this holy sword, I could recover my previous losses.

And Genocide Fang entrusts his last hope to a false sword.

What an ironic story to be framed for risking your life on a nickel thing...... it might suit him.

If you can carry it with you in the Attash Case, you will head to the enemy headquarters, which you have visited countless times.

But before you go around the entrance,

"... ahhh, Mr. Lion"

I bowled with Osama, who flickered out of the building.

"Ho ho, ho... Yes... you've come to a good place. I was just on my way to find Mr. Lion...... Damn!

Its face is as bright as it is frozen, and from a mask of the same colour it does not stop coughing and sneezing.

Where had I been so full before this, and now it seemed like I was being hunted down both physically and mentally?

"Gu, hon... I need to talk to Mr. Lion about something. What are you doing here? Come with me."

Genocide fangs to be pulled by a sick Osama and put in a carriage.

Towards it was the city of Antrea on the territory of Lutanvesta.

Genocide Fang was perfectly wondering if he was headed to Slumdog Mart headquarters in this realm, but the carriage would pass through the city without stopping.

We continued straight to the luxury residential area, where we arrived at a large mansion surrounded by woods.

"Whoa, whoa! This is the residence of the Holly Doll family, where I reside. Guuuuuuuuuuuuuu!

Osama tells me while I can.

"What? Does that mean there will be a mother?

All of a sudden he was brought to a hell of a place, and just a genocide fang hardened himself as well.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Yes, but the Virgin works at Slumdog Mart, so hey! I'm not here right now. I just have servants...... haku!

Genocide fangs follow Osama with a hospitable, slightly unfortunate feeling.

Inside the mansion was a strange space.

The Genocide residence is the same size of a mansion, so I don't even envy the luxury... but somehow I feel like a warm warmth.

Every adjustment seems to be very important......

Of course, they're all first-class products, but it's like they've always taken care of me rather than let me say things to gold or something...

The passing pillar had traces of back-to-back comparison, but the pillar stood gently like a grandmother watching over growth rather than being hurt and saddened.

That's a hard feeling to describe in words etc......

If you insist, 'love'... was full of it.

But the lion hadn't noticed.

That this palace of White Ash, full of charity, is an ant hell for him.

Every time I step down the stairs to the basement, I mean I'm dragged into a sand bowl...

Catoon catoons and cold footsteps echo in the corridor surrounded by enamel white marble.

Osama stopped in front of a large, double-open door at the poke.

"Come on, we're here. This is the room."

Giggy, giggy, giggy...!

Heavy noise, doors to be opened......

Beyond that, once in, you'll never be able to go back, that it's Hell's 1st...

He still didn't know...!

◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆

The interior was a spacious exhibition hall (gallery).

Showwindows like jewelry stores line up, with familiar weapons inside.

All of them were sold to Goldwolf by Lion dressed as a genocide fan.

And all of them were decorated with designs that matched the background of the antiques and seemed to be treated with care.

The ancient Hurlbury silver sword is delivered to the royal crest wall relief of the time in the form of a cross.

The legendary swordsman's wooden knife lies on the pedestal of a deer horn, then popular in the eastern country where the swordsman comes from.

The more the owner's hobby, the more roaring a stunning display you see.

So much so that even genocide fangs who were used to seeing antique weapons leaked their exclamation without thinking "oh".

Behind the room was a gallery, with paintings hung on columns and walls.

Those paintings are also stunning frames, conveying as much value from a distance.

Osama, who had guided us so far, had carefully checked to see if there was anyone outside the room.

After staring into the back of the long stretched hallway, close the door of the room cuttingly.

And when I took a big sigh, I leaned against the door somewhere.

He nods like the person who dropped his wallet in a way that no longer hides his seriousness.

Genocide fangs also wanted to look around the gallery, but were more concerned about Goldwolf's depression than never before, so they spoke up.

"... are you okay? What the hell happened?

Osama then moves his lips with Munyamnya so that he can palate.

He looked troubled for a while, coughing and kushami repeatedly......

I finally opened my heavy mouth as I rinsed my nose.

"Um... Mr. Lion. Oh ho! Actually, to Mr. Lyon, I need a favor... oh, hey!

"What is it?

"Come on! It's a very difficult favor to say...... woohoo! What I'm about to say, if I don't tell anyone, can you promise me...? Kushi-kun!"

"Of course. I can't promise you a favor, but let me be firm about not saying anything else. I'm also a merchant, so credit comes first."

Lyon's expression was solid.

But the inner genocide fang, it wasn't.

- You want to wear it...! What the hell!?

How could Temei have trouble knowing about the hidden bones he buried?!?

If that's such a dick story, stick the fake holy sword you brought in in your ass hole and whisk your back teeth back to it, then go gool-ah!!

"Oh, ho, ho! Thank you, Mr. Lion. I'll talk to you…"

And weakly spun out of the mouth of a wild dog is surprising......

It could rock the backbone of a slam dog mart that seemed like a stone, a new fact......!

Even more like an angel, Osama's, it was a devil's idea...!