“……!”
The citizens of Gyoguk gasped soundlessly. Ailette, seated on the iron chair, also widened her eyes until they seemed ready to burst, her breath caught in her throat.
“…….”
Yet Testilid himself revealed not even a speck of agitation across his sculpted, statue-like face.
His composure radiated so palpably that even Ailette—who could only see the back of his head from her distant seat—felt its weight.
That detached indifference toward death, unique to an infinite regressor, pricked at her nerves until she snapped.
Ailette raised her voice, frustration sharpening her tone.
“What ‘great redemption’ are you babbling about?! Stop acting rashly like Terry—no, don’t do anything reckless and just come here first!”
“…….”
“Think carefully, Terry! Even if you trade…