Lyle liked the literature club. Although this group, carrying Andrey's glory, might have some shortcomings in certain aspects, in Lyle's heart, they were still a lovely bunch of people.
After grappling with internal struggle for quite some time, Lyle arrived at the literature club's bubble house. As he passed through the colorful bubble membrane, this is what he thought.
He hoped those guys would notice the Holy Light Culinary Society's animosity towards them and be careful.
"What's the most beautiful race in the world?"
"Elves!"
"What's the gentlest race in the world?"
"Elves!"
"Who are the literature club's best friends?"
"Elves!"
In front of Lyle, under the curious gaze of Nia, a group of Liches, draped in black robes with a mysterious frenzy on their faces, led by a tablecloth sprite, recited terrible lines.
Mr. Reporter swayed his body, lavishing high praise on his companions.
"That's right! My brethren! Elves are the most adorable people in the world!"