"I actually tried it already, but still can't communicate with it."
Heine explained while opening the bottle.
The red light leaped out from within, lunging straight for that strand of Origin.
Heine, as if anticipating this, retracted the Origin in advance and clasped the bottle with his other hand.
The red light immediately converged into a majestic, fluffed-up large dog, hovering in midair and baring its teeth at him in a snarl.
Its tail was firmly grasped in Heine's hand, the one holding the bottle.
Man and dog faced off against each other, just like many times before.
But within a few seconds, the majestic wolf-dog turned into a fawning dog.
It lay on the table in front of Heine, rolling over and over, wagging its tail for mercy, nudging him with its head, and stretching out its tongue to lick him, the picture of obsequiousness.
"See, just like this, it's impossible to have a proper conversation."
Heine dodged the dog's head assault in resignation.
