"Who gave you the courage to speak to Camus Greda from this close—and for more than ten seconds?"
Camus's tone in the café had changed completely. His earlier look of anxious deference was gone.
At the same time, the tentacles that had originally wound around him had all turned into a bizarre mass covered in eyeballs, and no longer restrained him.
Faced with this unprecedented spectacle, Fu Qian curiously looked him up and down for a moment, making no move to react.
"As I thought, there's something wrong with you."
Camus let out a cold laugh.
"Does your body feel like it's in complete chaos, as if you're gradually losing control?"
"I was wondering how a demigod who'd advanced normally could get to this point without even displaying his Mythical Form."
"Changing one's appearance is nothing to an Extraordinary, of course, but as a seasoned Extraordinary with soul abilities, I can clearly sense the vigor in your consciousness."
"A demigod who's at most a few decades old? And with the least sophisticated kind of ability, no less—Flesh and Blood Power? It's hard not to think of someone named Ariel."
"What an unexpected windfall. Aside from the council, someone else can actually pull this off! I'm sure Crow Feather will be very interested."
"Who's Crow Feather?"
After letting the man gloat for a while, Fu Qian finally asked.
"Good question!"
Camus let out another string of cold laughs.
"I'd like to know who he is myself."
"Weren't you so curious about what we're doing here? He organized this operation."
"You'll be taken to him as my puppet when the time comes. I'm sure he'll be very interested in you."
"Enough chit-chat. The Night Watchers should be here soon. We don't have much time. Don't you want to know what happened to