"What have you done! You...you bastard, stop fooling around! Bastard!!"
Both "The Researcher" and "Jack" hysterically cursed, "Mother," who synced with Roland's mind, was almost forcibly torn apart by a counterattack beyond imagination. The spiritual pain directly fed back to their shared body, a third of which felt as if it had been chopped into pieces by various blades and then smashed with a mallet, and then tormented with salt. The intense pain penetrated every nerve ending.
The moment the serial killer and intellectual felt the heart-wrenching pain, they no longer had the composure to stay calm. Their eyes of despair and anger were fixed on Salome, sitting casually on the rubble.
"I've done nothing."
The witch twisted her face slightly and laughed lightly:
"You simply lost in a contest of spirits with my little ghost. It's that simple, weak 'Jack the Ripper' lady."
"You... you dare to call me weak!!!"
