In the warehouse, there was a corner unlike any other, not only filled with various books to relieve the loneliness of the night but also freshly uncorked red wine and a warm cotton blanket—clearly a makeshift nest built by human hands.
Although this little nest was not as luxurious as a villa, it provided immense comfort.
Slarate poured the red wine into the glass and tasted it slowly, savoring its rich sweetness.
The world's cold indifference was stark, only the thick blanket still held a bit of warmth.
There might have been knowledgeable "guards," but those "guards" would be thrown into the first underground level as soon as disaster struck, and few would ever stand duty here again.
Thus, his leisurely activities here had never been exposed to Asuna.
After eating and drinking his fill, he lay down to sleep, and in his drowsy state, Slarate heard a voice.
"Your clothes are nice, but in the next second, they'll be mine!"
