Jung knew something was off.
He couldn't put his finger on it, but he felt his situation was out of the ordinary.
"Smells fishy."
His words trailed off, reaching towards the cat on his shoulder.
Nero was the only one he put his trust in.
No players, not Leora, and especially not the gods, were trustworthy in his eyes.
Somehow, he didn't feel agitated over this.
As if, even if he was led and lied to, it was for his greater good, and this feeling came from deep inside.
He didn't like this one bit.
It was an unusual situation, but he would act like a fool until he found out what was going on.
Looking at the cat, it didn't seem like she shared the same premonition.
She was as calm and hateful as always.
Squinting his eyes, Jung clenched his fists, hitting the oppressive wall and generating loud noises.
His fingers ached, and his skin crawled in the wind.
