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“Quick… quickly say, who you really are, or else… I’m ferocious…” “Of course I’m your Heroic Spirit… ah no, your Sovereign Master.”

Logan showed a faint smile as he looked at the girl.

Then, taking advantage of Ama White’s “Existence Anchor,” he began to probe the rules of this world, gaining a sense of its history and current situation. [Note: Deity, wouldn’t you want to ask for information?]

Ama White, annoyed, watched as the hand ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

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