Hugo was slowly drinking his red fungus gruel. The silvery mask covering half of his face was reflecting the red gruel, which made him look especially weird. His expression was, as always, without any sign of the recent huge battle he'd been through. Butchie was sitting in front of Hugo, absent-mindedly stirring the gruel in her bowl and looking somewhat dispirited.
"Are you still thinking about that card artisan assassin?" Hugo's ear-piercing voice pulled Butchie out of her reverie.
Butchie only grunted in response, still stirring unconsciously with the soup spoon in her hand.
