plop!
It was the sound of another B-rank wolf's head dropping on the table.
Behind her alloy rimmed spectacles, the receptionist's eyes shot wide open. Staring in unbelief, and shocked to the bone, both her eyeballs bulged vicariously.
In the open hall behind her, chairs began to slide back, as pairs of numerous feet shuffled on the concrete ground- rising to glance at the bloody carcasses. It was like a portfolio, but made entirely of the mangled corpses of the wind wolves.
Behind her, Monica felt the invasion of dozens of eyes burning into her back.
Mindlessly, she reached into her spatial ring, and kept pulling out her trophies.
The black, shaggy heads of the triangular snout shaped beasts plopped on the wooden table- each one more burned and battered than the previous one.
