"Who… who was he?" I asked in a hushed voice, struggling to process what had just happened.
A laugh echoed in my mind. "Hahaha! I love watching people die, but the fact that you chose his death… now that was the cherry on top," Laplace's mocking voice buzzed maliciously.
"Shut up, Laplace. He's not dead… yet," I replied, recalling the words of the mysterious bandaged man: "I'm not an enemy… yet." The phrase lingered in my head like a persistent echo.
Aria watched the spot where the gypsy had disappeared. Her brow furrowed as though she were trying to make sense of what had occurred.
"A gypsy? Well, that's all I can think of," I finally said, breaking the silence.
"That would make sense, given his peculiar energy," Aria replied, though her voice sounded distracted. She remained captivated by the lingering energy the man had left behind.
