With a sharp glance from Wok, the leader of the group, the overly enthusiastic Beastman fell silent, his earlier bravado replaced by a subdued demeanor.
That fleeting moment was all Arlon needed to confirm what he had suspected. The dynamics within the group were crystal clear now.
Wok was the undisputed leader, carefully controlling the flow of conversation and ensuring no one spoke out of turn.
Arlon kept his expression neutral, his face betraying none of his inner thoughts. But his mind was racing.
The group's disdain for the saviors was no longer implied; it was glaringly evident.
Wok's firm grip on the group's narrative hinted at something deeper—a purpose or a plan that extended beyond mere camaraderie.
He discreetly relayed his observations to his real body through the diminishing connection with his copy.
