Once Klaus finished making provisions for the maids and security, he spent a few hours enjoying himself with Miriam and Ohema before resting.
The next day would be significant, and he wanted to relax first. However, as usual, his past seemed indifferent to his need for peace of mind.
Just as his face was comfortably nestled against Miriam's magnificent chest, he felt a gentle tap on his leg. Of course, he already knew who it could be—this wasn't the first time something like this had happened.
When he opened his eyes, as expected, Fruity was sitting cross-legged in mid-air, holding a teacup.
"Really, dude? Couldn't you have picked a better time?" Klaus muttered, resisting the urge to slap the monk. Not that it would do any good—it'd be like slapping himself, and that was a sensation he had no desire to experience.
"What's there to be upset about? It was my turn to visit you, so here I am," Fruity replied, smiling serenely.
