Within moments, Osta, who had been on the verge of a complaint, managed to force a smile and said, "You're quite the menacing sight like this."
"It's a classic look in literature," Lumian replied with a deliberately smug tone.
Osta said nothing, opting instead to don his iron mask, concealing his expression.
Taking a few steps forward, he halted and rapped on the door to the right.
Two long pauses, one short pause, and one long pause… Lumian watched Osta Trul's actions with the keen eye of a Hunter.
Within seconds, the dark-red wooden door creaked open.
The first thing Lumian saw was a plush, pale-yellow carpet, followed by classical-styled tables, chairs, sofas, and display shelves.
A figure stood in the shadows cast by gas wall lamps near the floor-to-ceiling windows.
