"Good morning, Ryan."
Zane held two cups of coffee in his hands.
"Here," he said, offering him one cup.
Ryan threw one gaze at the cup and then shook his head.
"No need."
"You should drink it. I put some premium blood capsules inside," Zane insisted, as if Ryan was particularly inclined to drinking some coffee just because it contained some blood.
"..."
In appreciation of Zane's kindness, Ryan took the blood-flavored coffee from him. Before he lifted the cup to his lips, he stared at his younger cousin.
"Did you put anything else inside?"
"Good grief, no!" Zane said hurriedly.
He knew that Ryan was referring to the time when he was drugged at the ancient castle.
"Ryan, I had to do it," he said helplessly. "You were not yourself at that time."
Ryan chuckled in response.
Not himself?
What did Zane know about him?
Did he know Ryan long enough to make a judgment over Ryan's state of mind?
