Seiji woke to the sound of persistent knocking on his door, each sharp rap reverberating through his pounding head. Groaning, he rubbed his temples, cursing the hangover that dulled his senses. His mouth was dry, his body sluggish, but the knocking wouldn't stop.
"Alright, alright," he muttered, stumbling to his feet. His vision swam for a moment as he shuffled toward the door. When he opened it, his bleary eyes widened in shock.
Standing there were the three women from yesterday—Helena, Mira, and Alina. Behind them, a figure cloaked in robes with a hood pulled low over her face.
"You again?" Seiji groaned, his voice hoarse. "What do you want now?" He glanced toward his table, realizing with a sinking feeling that his dagger was sitting there, well out of reach.
