Within the Lonely Forest.

This place had once been a beautiful forest, but five years ago, a mysterious curse had struck the land, transforming it into a deadly area that was off-limits to any living creature. But to Laban and his demon bandits, this place was actually the safest haven, a land with flowing milk and honey.

At this moment, hundreds of demonic bandits were dancing, eating, and drinking around a roaring campfire that was situated right next to a small stream running through the Lonely Forest.

They were not wearing the demonic masks that they normally used to conceal their identities. Actually, they celebrated just like regular humans.

Laban sat on a nearby large rock, holding a leather wineskin that he kept refilling. He had drunk a little too much, and his vision was unfocused. Even so, he refused to let the leather wineskin slip from his grip.

“Bart, go and bring that woman over to me,” Laban suddenly yelled out in high spirits.

An old bearded bandit replied, “Leader, our boss said that we can’t do those kinds of things.”

“Pei!” Laban slammed the rock he was sitting on. “There’s so many of us here. If we aren’t allowed to touch the women, then how will we go on living? Should we use your holes instead?”

The group of...

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