"FOR A god, you're pretty weak," Neoma said while picking up Mini Skewer. [I'm sorry for throwing you away earlier, Mini Skewer.]
"Of course I'm weak right now," Crimson, who was sitting on the floor with slumped shoulders, said in an irritated voice. "You're not angry after all."
She turned to the dude and raised a brow at him. To be honest, she wanted to feel bad for the poor guy after she beat him up because of his child appearance. But she didn't like the evil glint in his red eyes. Thus, she stopped feeling sorry for him. "Are you saying that my anger affects your strength?"
"I'm the God of Wrath," he reminded her firmly. "Since you're my host, it's only natural that your anger serves as the fuel for my power."
"I'm still angry though."
"It's still not enough for me," he said in a serious tone. "I need you to be angry to the point of insanity, little de Moonasterio."
"I'm not good at doing what people I dislike want me to do."
