The man in the garish purple suit with a goatee was named Kale Ock and had a refined air of nobility about him.
It was evident that Mr. Ock must have been quite handsome in his youth, and of course, he still had a mature charm about him now.
His smile was gentle, his eyes sharp and scrutinizing, fitting of someone in a high position.
That is, if you didn't look at his spirit.
His spirit was particularly nauseating.
It had the texture of mud, a blackish-grey base filled with a mix of queasy purple and pink, shimmering with iridescent grease.
This muddy mass almost filled the entire office, coating the floor, ceiling, walls, and desk everywhere.
Various eyeballs swirled within the mud, bubbles emerging and bursting, the noises carrying through the air.
Gurgle-gurgle.
——"Delly, oh, a ripe woman, schlurp schlurp, wow, she's so curvy, I wonder what she feels like to touch..."
