C506 Hair Inquisitor

It was smooth, rather smooth. This kind of smooth surface brought back Naoros's bad memory. It was the feeling he got when he touched his own head more than ten minutes ago:

"My hair, my blond hair!"

Naoros had never been as angry as he was now. As a top powerhouse of F Nation, his hair was the pain of his life. A few minutes ago, his wound had just healed, but someone just tore it open again