After some time passed, the old man, whose name Adrian discovered was Bellion, sat with his hands folded across his chest, waiting for Adrian to start asking his questions.
Adrian hadn't mentioned anything about asking questions to Bellion, who was under his control now. But it seemed that even though he was under Adrian's influence, the assassin in Bellion was as cunning as ever.
"You're too smart for your own good, old timer," Adrian shook his head, sitting across the table. "Had it not been for my eyes and your low magic resistance, I'd be gone for good."
"The youngun these days are too weak," Bellion scoffed. "How is it my fault?"
"Of course, it's not," Adrian rolled his eyes before turning the conversation in the intended direction. "I know for a fact that my disguise was impeccable. Still, you knew I wasn't Red but an impostor. How?"
