How to spread the gospel without annoying people had always been a profound art.
Fu Qian understood that well and was meticulous about it. He used polite language, kept his gaze at eye level, didn't mock the slime-matted hair of the person before him, and... introduced himself first.
"My name is Anke. Do you remember me? We met last night."
At such close range, the heat of their breaths washed over him, carrying a hazy, intoxicating quality that seemed like the very embodiment of some primal impulse.
Yet it didn't dim Fu Qian's smile in the slightest.
"Sorry to bother you so early, Lady Harriet. Do you know where Lord Prout went?"
Harriet?
The three people below were undoubtedly staring up at this suspended preaching tableau, and the shock Fu Qian had caused reached its peak when he spoke that name.
"She's..."
Amira couldn't help glancing at Reginald.
Of course she remembered the target this hunter had dealt with last night. He had even deliberately brought Anke along to watch.
How had she ended up in there, and turned into... this?
Still... that made the unseen entanglement seem a lot more plausible.
Amira recalled the sight of Harriet being lifted from behind and found herself halfway convinced.
No need to ask: the door had been impossible to open for the same reason. Something invisible had blocked it from the inside, then quietly withdrawn when disturbed.
So Anke had noticed all this beforehand, and that was why he'd chosen her to question?
That seemed a little more reasonable, but she still couldn't understand how he'd recognized her.
Between the angle and the hair plastered all over her face, she should have been hard to identify.
"If that's her, then what's going on in there makes a lot more sense."
Reginald had