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Chapta 81 - Soldier Bloodline

When tha final rune was carved, all tha runes on tha piece of wood seemed ta come kickin it as they connected seamlessly together son!

A golden glow fuckin started ta rapidly run along tha rune lines, n’ dis originally aiiight piece of wood unexpectedly elongated, formin a rune javelin.

Da Freedom Federation's rune technologizzle had always been known as tha dopest up in tha ghetto fo’ tha last fifty years, yet even da most thugged-out formidable rune grandmasta would be stupefied if they had witnessed dis scene. Well shiiiit, it straight-up circumvented tha foundationz of tha established rune technologizzle field.

Rune science was as complex as integrated circuitry. Dat shiznit was built upon tha foundationz of humanity's use of ass juice n’ manufacturin capabilities.

Yet, dis youth had unexpectedly been able ta build a rune thang on tha riverside wit just his hands. Furthermore, dat golden glow present durin tha completion of tha javelin flossed dat dat shiznit was a rune weapon of a straight-up high grade biaatch!

Da youth couldn't help but raise tha javelin high tha fuck into tha air yo. Dude resisted tha eye-piercin sunlight n’ examined tha minute flowz of rune juice coverin tha surface of tha javelin. I aint talkin’ bout chicken n’ gravy biatch yo. Dude seemed ta have noticed suttin’ as tha expression on his wild lil’ grill chizzled tha fuck into suttin’ dat was less than straight-up satisfied.

In dat moment, tha gigantic champsosaurus reached within strikin distizzle of tha youth. Instead of sensin tha youth's flesh n’ blood, it instead sensed dat exuberant game force n’ ass juice pourin off his body.

Mutated beasts thirsted fo’ ass power, a instinct not any lower than dat of humans. Only wit continuous devourin would they be able ta strutt tha next step of evolution. I aint talkin’ bout chicken n’ gravy biatch. Dat shiznit was now tha foremost instinct of mutated beasts ta pursue evolution. I aint talkin’ bout chicken n’ gravy biatch. Well shiiiit, it made dem mo’ aggressive, givin dem a thirst dat they couldn't possibly control!

Da big-ass Ghetto Dragon suddenly blew up like a muthafucka forward, openin its enormous maw as it let up a ghetto-bobbin roar toward tha youth.

In tha next moment, a earth-shatterin sound akin ta a thunderclap rang all up in tha air. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Da Ghetto Dragon was like a gangbangin’ frightened rabbit as it whimpered. Y’all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Well shiiiit, it pressed its tail between its hairy-ass legs n’ quickly dashed toward tha depthz of tha forest like a puff of smoke. Well shiiiit, it didn't even turn its head around.

Da thug whoz ass made dat roar was tha youth whoz ass looked like a lion mackdaddy.

"Yo crazy-ass Highness, Aierlus!" A similarly thugged-out soldier had arrived unknowingly yo. Dude didn't seem ta wonder at dis unexpected sight. "There is one of mah thugs from Kaiser here."

Aierlus smiled faintly. "A gangmember of tha Rothschilds?"

"Yes yes y’all. To be mo’ accurate, it is Solomon, tha number one successor of tha Rothschild Family," Lomeiro respectfully holla’d.

Aierlus was tha lil hustla of tha patriarch of tha Pampas Empire, a so-called soldier pimped by tha gods. Currently, tha Pampas Empire had grown ta become tha second top billin juice on tha continent, only standin behind tha Amazizzle Empire.

Da youth smiled as he knew Solomon Rothschild was no diggity mad formidable. Interactions between tha four continents had grown mo’ n’ mo’ n’ mo’ mo’ prevalent up in tha past forty years, n’ both shizzle n’ reports was no longer as secret. It's holla’d dat tha smart-ass 's decision n’ courageous move made dat year caused widespread admiration fo’ tha Rothschild Family.

:What did da thug want, biatch? What can we obtain?"

"Support tha religious rule of tha prophet n’ we can git resources n’ rune technology," answered Lomeiro.

Da Kaiser Empire was a cold-ass lil colossus dat was second only ta tha Freedom Federation. I aint talkin’ bout chicken n’ gravy biatch fo’ realz. As such, tha resources it held could be ranked as second place. This was especially legit fo’ essentials like fuckin canned chicken, which was only produced by tha Freedom Federation n’ Kaiser Empire.

"How tha fuck do you feel bout it?"

Lomeiro n’ Aierlus had grown up together n’ shit. Even though da thug was just tha captain of Aierlus' underground guard, da thug was also his dopest playa.

Lomeiro flossed a funky-ass solid smile. "This will do not a god damn thang but cause friction between our asses n’ tha Amazizzle Empire fo’ realz. At tha same time, if tha prophet's religion penetrated elsewhere, it will also serve ta keep tha Freedom Federation up in check."

Aierlus nodded. Y’all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! "There be a oldschool teachin of tha Rothschild Family dat is like egotistical; Once tha scrilla starts ringing, every last muthafuckin problem can be easily solved."

Lomeiro knew his wild lil’ freakadelic phat playa was worried afta hearin dat statement. Da Kaiser Empire surely had a ulterior motive. "Do you wanna reject them?"

"Fuck dat shit, we need they external strength. Da Prophet's religion can preach within our bordaz yo, but all we will do it allow dat shit."

Lomeiro gawked slightly. "But…"

"I know what tha fuck you're worried about. Da strength of a religion is straight-up blingin. This move by Solomon is like sinista yo, but tha key point is dat we need ta properly control it fo’ realz. And there's still a big-ass uninhabited region…" Aierlus holla’d wit a smile.

"If Solomon agrees, we would only be able ta conceal it fo’ a lil while?"

"You're underestimatin him," Aierlus holla’d. Y’all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! "Dude definitely knows what tha fuck we'll do yo, but I know he'll accept."

There was nuff ambitious playas up in tha ghetto, yet tha one whoz ass held da most thugged-out conspiracies would be tha Kaiser Empire fo’ realz. A thug wit such a grand goal would definitely have a extraordinary tolerizzle level.

Since there was such a bangin-ass game bein played, how tha fuck could he not participate?

This fate couldn't be defied by dem playas whoz ass held tha destiny of tha era on they backs.

Da Prodigy Society's core strength had all gone off ta tha crew hustlin. I aint talkin’ bout chicken n’ gravy biatch. Not only did Prezzy Ma Dong not feel a single trace of embarrassment fo’ bein left behind, da thug was instead like a gangbangin’ fish up in gin n juice n’ shiznit fo’ realz. All these junior sistas whoz ass had rushed up in cuz of Grai was bein showered wit a off tha hook amount of attention by his muthafuckin ass.

"Shorter, make it shorter," Ma Dong holla’d wit a solemn grill as he peeped tha design plans on tha screen.

If a big-ass society possessed superstars, then how tha fuck could they not be packaged, biatch? Cheerleadaz had ta keep up wit tha playas they was cheering. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Since tha muthafuckas had already been chosen from tha members, all dat was left was tha crucial point of a cold-ass lil cheerin squad; bare fat-ass thighs.

His lil junior brothers from tha rune department wore bitta expressions. "President, dis straight-up can't be shortened any further n’ shit. Da pantizzles can almost be seen. I aint talkin’ bout chicken n’ gravy biatch. This… dis be a lil’ bit too…"

"Young dude, how tha fuck can you drop a rhyme such lyrics, biatch? How tha fuck can you use such a secular gaze when lookin at such aesthetically pleasin designs?" Ma Dong patted his junior brother's shoulder n’ shit. "This be art, tha pursuit of beauty. Only pimps wit dirty thoughts can spot such a 'problem' of tha design. I aint talkin’ bout chicken n’ gravy biatch. I don't believe yo ass is dat type of person! Also, since tha expenditure of tha society be a lil’ bit tight, we need ta save any lil bit we can! Yes, shorten tha length of tha shirt, you used too much fabric!"

"Cough cough. President, tha problem is… no one will wear it if it's shortened no mo’." One of tha junior brothers felt dizzy as da perved-out muthafucka spoke.

"Ah, if that's tha case, then I'll cook up a exception n’ let it be a lil’ bit longer n’ shit. Don't waste tha shit! Resources these minutes is tight!" Ma Dong didn't forget ta repeatedly warn dem wild-ass muthafuckas.

Ever since tha number of thugz up in tha Prodigy Posse had increased, da perved-out muthafucka started ta straight-up trip off tha pleasure of bein prez. No wonder all kindsa muthafuckin playas wished ta become prez.

"Everyone holla’d Tianjin was a phat place; seems like I was tha naive one biaaatch! Look how tha fuck bangin’ I am!" exclaimed a gangbangin’ fatty as he nagged while struttin in.

Ma Dong became excited. Y’all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type’a shiznit happens all tha time yo. Dude was most fond of fatties. Put ya muthafuckin choppers up if ya feel dis! To be able ta smoke ta such a physique up in dis era, it meant dat da thug was either a nouveau riche person, or a aristocrat. When he looked at dis fellow's entire body which sparkled wit golden light, da ruffneck definitely placed his ass up in tha category of his crazy-ass most straight-up nouveau riche.

"Excuse me, sir, how tha fuck may I help yo slick ass?" Ma Dong holla’d as he enthusiastically greeted tha fatty fo’ realz. As a funky-ass bidnizzman, one's steez attitude was straight-up blingin.

"Is you tha prez?" axed tha fatty as da perved-out muthafucka squinted his wild lil’ fuckin eyes ta examine Ma Dong.

"Yo crazy-ass lowly servant is Ma Dong, prez of tha Prodigy Society!" Ma Dong was slightly surprised. Y’all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This fatty came prepared…

"Prezzy Ma Dong, I wish ta trip around…"

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