...
"Don't, don't come any closer." The old fox who'd just escaped death by a whisker from hell had once again fallen into the Ninth Netherworld, his face that had just regained a hint of color suddenly paled again, despair turning his eyes ash-grey as he saw his only reliance, Junda, being brutally killed by Yves King, and all the escape plans he'd thought of before were now forgotten beyond the highest heavens.
"Yves King, don't come over, this is really none of my business, I've been used by others, I've had no control over my own actions." The usually shrewd old fox completely lost his wits under the naked threat of violence, his face now a deathly pale, desperate, and disheveled. He even let out piteously pitiful wails like those of ghosts and wolves.
