Hearing the rustling behind the door, Klein's raised hand froze in midair. Knocking was awkward, but lowering it felt no better.
As an outstanding young man from the Internet age of the twenty-first century, even if he had never eaten pork, he had at least seen pigs run. The abilities the "Desire Apostle" had displayed in battle, Angel's various strange actions afterward, and the sounds now coming from behind the door—if he still did not understand what had happened to her, he would only be deceiving himself.
What surprised and comforted him was that Angel still remembered him at this moment, remembered "Klein," who had already been buried in Tingen City.
But he was Sherlock Moriarty now, not Klein Moretti...
"Angel..."
His fingers touched the door. He answered silently, then held his breath and slowly retreated with a Clown's nimble footwork. Step by step, his feet carried him away from Angel's room across the carpet. Though each step felt heavy, they made no sound.
Only after retreating to the other end of the corridor did Klein's tense shoulders relax as he slowly let out a breath.
It sounded like a sigh.
The next morning, Angel left her room and came downstairs.
After yesterday's "temporary solution," her excessive desires had been eased to some extent. As long as she did not try wearing the Madness Ring, she should not face such a situation again in the short term.
Of course, as a substitute, she planned to ease the Faceless characteristic's craving for flesh and blood by having a proper meat-heavy breakfast.
What left her both amused and exasperated was that the Demoness of Pleasure Potion within her already showed faint signs of digestion. Although it was not obvious, it pointed the path of digestion toward a method that made her