"Master... what happened to the old man?"
Anastasia's voice cut through the tension like a warm knife through cold air. Her voice was filled with a casual innocence that felt almost absurd in contrast to the blood dripping from Hector's face.
Merciless turned his gaze toward her, still kneeling over Hector's twitching form. His eyes, calm yet sharp, shifted between her and the tray of cookies in her hands. He exhaled slowly.
"I'm transferring my memories to him."
He said flatly, wiping a small trace of Hector's blood off his chin, that he coughed up him.
"He needs to quickly be brought up to speed, and this was the quickest way to do it."
Merciless explained.
Anastasia raised an eyebrow, looking down at Hector's trembling body with a vague hint of amusement, or maybe sympathy...honestly, it was hard to tell with her.
But seeing that he was in no danger or harm, she merely replied by saying.
"I see..
"... I'm sure he will be up in no time."
