"Ambrose, wake up!" A faint shout echoed.
"If you don't wake up soon, you'll get thrown out of the game, and we'll get disqualified as that is registered as you being dead!
"So, wake up, please!"
"Ngh…" Ambrose mumbled, slowly opening his eyes.
He saw a sharp light and then realized he was lying on the ground with Moriarty shouting something at him.
"Ngh, what happened?" Ambrose sat up while clutching his head, as there was a strange headache pulsating through his temples.
"You suddenly fell unconscious, I think!" Moriarty shouted worryingly. "If you hadn't woken up, we would've been disqualified!"
"Right…" Ambrose started to remember what happened and touched his nose.
There were still traces of that crimson blood.
"What the hell was that?" Moriarty asked with a frown. "Are you sick or something? It would be good to know because if something like this happens again!"
