5
Walking firmly across the hard ground, Subaru pushed open the door to the meeting place.
Inside, the masked man glanced at him, then sniffed in annoyance—as if to say that no one had called for him.
“What, Subaru Natsuki? There is no role onstage for those who cannot offer a constructive opinion.”
Abel made it very clear—Subaru was not welcome.
But Subaru didn’t stop.
Even if Abel had tolerated Flop’s irreverence, he had no patience for Subaru, who stood for nothing.
Subaru walked right up to him and stared straight down at the fearsome oni mask.
“You make any progress, you pompous asshole?”
Reaching out without hesitation, he ripped the mask from Abel’s face.
Mizelda and the other Shudrak gasped at the brazen act.
Flop, too—seeing Abel’s face for the first time—widened his eyes in shock.
But Subaru paid them no mind.
Abel’s cold, calculating expression twisted ever so slightly—a barely perceptible reaction—before he shook his head.
“No, the negotiations are moving with difficulty. This merchant is unexpectedly steadfast.”
“I see.” Subaru smirked. “In that case, if you’re so bad at convincing people, then let me do it for you.”
“What?”
Seeing Abel’s brow actually arch was deeply satisfying.
Then, turning to Flop, Subaru met the merchant’s startled gaze.
Though he couldn’t know for sure, Flop had likely suspected the truth about Abel for a while now. And yet even he looked shocked at Subaru’s sudden shift.
“Buddy?”
Both Abel and Flop looked at him with their own unspoken questions.
“I have a plan to take Guaral without spilling a single drop of blood. If no blood is spilled, then both of you can work together on it, right?”
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