HELL.
Wow.
Neoma had really seen it all by now.
"I'm Drystan– the King of Hell," the old man with long gray hair, jet-black eyes, and almost green-ish skin greeted Neoma uninterestedly. "Welcome to my humble abode."
[Nooo!]
CLANK.
That was the sound of handcuffs that the King put around Neoma's wrists.
Yes, she just got… arrested?
Now that she was looking closely, the building that she was taken to look similar to the modern world's police station.
And yes, Drystan was also wearing a uniform similar to a police officer in Korea.
[What the fuck?]
"Getting arrested by the King of Hell wasn't on my bingo card, but here we are now," Neoma said, sighing while crying inside. "But this definitely ruined my childhood. W*ttpad brainwashed me into thinking that the kings and princes of Hell are all young-looking and hot."
