“If I don’t drink, I can’t fall asleep, you see.”
Weed nodded his head and agreed.
“Alright.”
He couldn’t look after Smith all the time. It would be better to put him to sleep even if it was by drinking liquor.
“Also, recruit a mercenary.” “What?”
“You’re a feeble Sculptor, aren’t you?”
If Weed was feeble, then the majority of Warriors or Swordsmen would be crawling around on the ground for lack of strength.
Smith continued, “I don’t feel safe with just you. And we don’t even know where we’ll arrive if we go through that gate, so wouldn’t it be better to bring one mercenary?”