"One is already nauseating on its own, but two?" 46 grimaced as he swatted the air in front of his face as though to ward off the offensive stench. "You'd better do something about it, or you will make me retch one of these days."
"Wait, wait a second—" Song Zhuyu pressed on his temple, chuckling incredulously.
He could understand why he reeked of a demon; it must be due to the mark on his body, but what about the angel part? Was it because he was an exorcist who frequently borrowed divine power? Then did that mean every exorcist in this world carried the scent of an angel with them? Song Zhuyu raised his head to ask that question, but then he discovered that the space in front of him was already empty and the grim reaper was nowhere to be seen.
46 had, once again, vanished without so much as a word.
Song Zhuyu: "...Fuck."
