The lady opened her eyes gaining concious.
Crim watched intently as the crippled lady retrieved a serum from her pocket. Upon injection, a captivating aura of blue and green light enveloped her.
As he witnessed this stunning transformation, her fractured bones seemed to miraculously reconstruct, and the once bloody wounds sealed shut, leaving barely a trace.
The young man couldn't help but sigh, reminded of his lack of money. In contrast, the girl, now rejuvenated, brushed off the accumulated dust and settled down.
It was a moment for him to realize the gaping gap of wealth between them, despite her using an expensive item, it wasn't meant to taunt him, even though it did.
-"Say, don't you have any of those? They look somewhat like the regeneration spells used by demons," Scizon innocently inquired.
Crim's response was a frustrated click of his tongue. "Shut up."
Scizon cocked his head, perplexed by the young man's irritation. It took a moment, but then it dawned on him. "Too expensive, huh?" the demon quipped, rubbing salt in the wound.
In response, Crim merely spat on the ground.-
The girl rolled her head, dislodging mud from her hair.
She then pulled out a hairbrush seemingly from nowhere.
-Crim couldn't help but take note of the golden ring she was wearing. "Dimensional storage," he observed. "I wonder if I could swipe it if I get the chance."
Scizon sighed, "Can't you just relax, Mr. Bonds?"-
Interrupting their silent exchange, the girl took a few steps back, wary of the young man trying to put her in a submission hold once more. "What's your name?" she inquired.
Crim quickly improvised, providing a false identity. "Sai Kent," he replied.
"I'm Alora Feirstein. Remember, if you fail..." Alora began but was cut off before she could finish her sentence.
"Off with my head, I know," the young man retorted, unfazed.
He was well-accustomed to contracts and had no need for extra time to adapt to the idea of an adversary becoming an ally, united by a shared, albeit elusive goal.[GE1]
Alora turned behind, getting another weapon that had an alluring color and a feeble brand on its blade: It was a small dagger dipped in a rainbow wave, with a tilt that looked more comfy than a sofa in summer.
Crim scratched his scalp, and followed close behind, concluding a label on the girl saying "Adapting abilities maxed."
Even for him, being able to turn your back on an enemy without a vow or a contract seemed like a fantasy. But as long as it benefited him, the young man did not care.