Suddenly, a strange impulse struck Ricky like a lightning bolt to the brain—he wanted a disciple.
Not just any disciple.
One that could cook for him.
"Ahhh… just how good that would be…"
The mosquito's multifaceted eyes sparkled with longing as his attention drifted completely away from the explosive clash happening outside. His thoughts floated into a blissful daydream, untethered and wild.
He imagined it vividly—
A petite, loyal disciple, diligently refining pills in a quiet corner, spiritual flames dancing under her cauldron.
Another, a cheerful cook, preparing freshly hunted beast meat into sizzling delicacies, every spice blending like a melody.
And then… a graceful, white-skinned female disciple standing by his throne, gently waving away all annoyances and enemies with a flick of her delicate hand.
Ahhh, yes. Perfection.
Within moments, the dream spiraled beyond his control. The only thing Ricky wanted now was to leave immediately and find disciples.
