"I've gotta go to study some more. If you ever find Romero again, let me know."
"Okay, then."
At that, Cinnabar left. It was strange that such a young girl was dealing with matters like this, but Zarathustra must have much trust in her daughter.
Following that encounter, Marigold walked to the receptionist's desk and slammed her fist on the table, starling the girl behind the counter and nearly causing the glasses to fall from her face.
"Did Romero appear anywhere here?"
"No. I'm sorry."
Marigold scowled. "He nearly killed me, and he murdered my spinebear!"
"I'm really sorry, ma'am, but there's nothing we can do about it."
"But there are magic crystal monitors! You can see what goes on in a dungeon!"
"Was there anybody watching you both?"
The forty-ninth floor was completely empty.
"No," Marigold said.
"If there were no witnesses, then there's nothing we can do about it."
