As Arlon disappeared into the next room with Syme, the six remaining players stood motionless for a moment, listening to the distant echo of their footsteps fading away.
Then, the silence broke.
"Well, well, well…"
A playful voice rang out across the room.
Lying on his sunbed, still half-reclined as if none of this mattered, Arn stretched his arms lazily and let out a yawn.
His child-like appearance made him seem harmless—small and fragile, with a face that belonged to someone no older than ten.
He had yellow hair and a black tail. His teeth seemed like they belonged to a shark, pointy and sharp.
There were black lines on his face that extended under his chin. And when he smiled, even with the black lines and pointy teeth, he looked innocent.
But the aura around him was anything but innocent.
"So, the saviors finally came," Arn murmured, swinging his legs over the side of the sunbed. His tone was mocking, dripping with amusement.
He tilted his head, eyes scanning the room.
