"Uncle, is that Reality Master—I mean, the Spirit with Good Luck—really strong?"
Reves asked, his eyes wide with curiosity. If this were a storybook, there'd be sparkles dancing in them.
Ivaim smirked, leaning against the counter as if settling in for a good story.
"Do you think being strong is what makes someone great?" he countered, arching a brow.
Reves tilted his head, considering the question.
"Well… yeah, kind of? You can't be great if you're weak, right?"
Ivaim chuckled, a low, knowing sound.
"The Reality Master we serve is more than strong," he said, his tone carrying a weight that made Reves lean in closer.
"He can never be killed."
Reves gasped, his face lighting up with awe. "Whoa! So he's immortal?"
A sly grin tugged at the corner of Ivaim's lips.
'No, it's because he's a cockroach with way too much luck. The kind that always slips away at the last second'
