The pot-bellied manager sat on his chair with no one in front of him. He wished not to be disturbed.
He let out a long heavy snort as he averted his eyes from his fidgeting hands toward the black stones on the etched shelf on the wall. Every dark hue gave an ominous feeling like the black mist slowly permeating out of those rocks. It was the mana of the bearer returning to nature and it also meant death.
"This is ridiculous, not even three hours had gone by and they are already dead?" muttered the pot-bellied man. The astonishing feat of destroying the main branches of Treas soon turned to be horrific. It was unprecedented. He could have never imagined that they work so fast.
"How scary, not even Treas has the capabilities to do the same kind of thing," muttered the pot-bellied man before he let out a big snort.
