Poison Rose was very beautiful.
In Lin Hao's eyes, such a beauty should not be a mercenary; rather, she belonged to the daughters of the wealthy and powerful, or to the women of the affluent and influential.
Yet as the name suggests, she was a rose with blood.
Beautiful, but thorny.
An unrivaled beauty who could survive the most brutal battlefields was certainly no mere vase.
As Lin Hao was approaching, Poison Rose had already bathed in the sea water, and as if by magic, she pulled out a set of tight-fitting clothes and changed into them.
Her speed was rapid; by the time Lin Hao stopped, Poison Rose had already dressed and turned around.
Under the hazy moonlight, her proud peaks were enveloped by her tight-fitting clothes, further highlighting her graceful figure.
Compared to her previous disguise, she was a completely different person, one could scarcely believe that such a gorgeous, Western beauty with devilish curves could have transformed into a sleazy, corpulent man.
