"Lord Raine, do you believe he will come out unscathed by the poisonous blood?"
The woman noticed her Lord's sudden interest in the young man. He had a little expectation of the young man's performance.
"Yes."
"Wanna bet?" She suggested. The man paused.
"If we wage bets now, you will lose."
She smiled. "So confident, my Lord—" she came to an abrupt halt when she noticed the young man standing up straight.
He looked just the same. The black overcoat jacket he wore over his head has large holes in it from the puppet's blood.
He was unscathed and well. Not a single trace of blood poisoning in his complexion.
"Ha.ha." The singular sarcastic laugh from the woman made the man raise his brow in amusement.
Whenever she laughs like that, it means she's pissed. She raised her long fingers to tamper with the puppets again, but the man stopped him.
"Let it be. We need him alive to entertain us. He's no use to us dead."
