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... r. Half of its arm disappeared as if into water, pulling out a bottle filled with a viscous black liquid and tossing it to Ansel. "Hmph… I wonder which poor soul is going to fall victim to you, but it's none of my business."
Valrhona snorted, "Go to hell sooner rather than later, devil."
Ansel shook the bottle, not paying much attention to Valrhona's words, and laughed at it:
"I wish you a fortune, Lord of the Crow's Nest."
Under the watchful eyes of the tavern pa ...
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