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“So,” Hector went on, “if you want to fight me, then we can’t do it here. We have to go somewhere else. And you have to... leave these people alone.”
Ivan looked over their audience another time before returning to Hector. “For a second there, I almost believed you. Playing up to my fun-loving bloodlust. Smart. Thing is, though: it’s been done and done and done. So I’m just not buying it. I’m a stingy customer in that way. More of a seller, you know. Ha.”
“I’m not lying,” Hector lied. “I don’t care what happens to me. I’ll let you kill me or capture me or whatever. And then you won’t get the fight you want.”
“Nah. You won’t do that. Even if you do have a power that puts your buddies at risk, you wouldn’t just let them die.”
Hector glared at him. “You don’t understand how dangerous my power is.”
The Salesman met his gaze evenly. “Hmm. And what is this oh-so-dangerous power of yours, exactly?”
Garovel could’ve helped with that one. Hector very much wanted to consult the reaper right now, but there just wasn’t time. He couldn’t allow himself to get distracted. So instead, he said, “What’s yours?”
“Ha. Do you know what the weak interaction is?”
With hesitation, Hector shook his head.
“Then there’s no point in explaining.” He turned to the Lord Blackburn again. “What’s his power?”
“...I-I don’t know,” said Ismael.
“Mm. Well, at least you were honest.”
The blue cage converged. A flash consumed Ismael’s body, and then the man was dust. Dead. As quickly as that.
“No!” Hector yelled. “I told you--!”
“Relax,” said Ivan. “It was only the servant. The reaper yet lives.” Another blue cage came through the same hole in the wall, this one holding a reaper. “See?”
And Hector wavered. His focus. His resolve. He didn’t know if he could just stand here and watch what was about to happen.