Death's head spun around to check where the voice originated, completely taken aback at how flawless the timing was that it seemed like the voice intentionally interrupted him. However, we both knew that this wasn't the case.
The owner of the voice revealed himself—a man with messy brown hair and a rugged appearance. He sported a leather jacket over a black shirt, ripped blue denim at the thighs, and sturdy brown leather boots. A lit stick of cigarette was in between his middle and index finger.
The mere sight of him made Death scoff. I raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if he recognized who this person was.
"Boss looked more like a bad boy than this try-hard!" Death sneered, and I assumed he didn't realize who this man was.
Neither did Evangeline of the past, for she replied sarcastically.
