Valentine Wagner never felt himself in between the sword and the wall like this before, not even when his deranged father took his head and cut his neck mercilessly.
He sat down on a royal chair sofa in the mansion that resembled his childhood, the battlefield was his very soul, the place where he held the advantage, but in this war... there was no advantage whatsoever.
In this place there were currently more than three hundred-eighty beautiful ladies awaiting his words, all of them sat, somehow squeezing themselves in this mansion.
"What are you waiting for? speak... tell me your explanation" Fayette, aka the reaper, tapped her fingers repeatedly, her hair blazing like the sun served not to incite him to say how beautiful she was, instead it was like a lamp that shone upon his sins.
Beside her was Vera whose crimson hair flowed as she grinned with her arms crossed beneath her chest, as if having fun of his misfortune, clearly influenced by Rose.
