The moment Wizet mentioned the word "object," Joseph Bonanno jolted, as though a chill had shot up his spine to the back of his head.
For Wizet to pinpoint the word "object" so precisely could mean only one thing: his understanding of the truth behind the Magical Contract was not mere probing or speculation, but a relatively accurate deduction.
That was why Joseph Bonanno felt as though he had fallen into an ice cellar. He simply could not figure out what details he had leaked for Wizet to piece together the answer.
It left him in a dilemma. What kind of reaction would be appropriate?
He felt that every move he made might affect Wizet's judgment.
If he denied Wizet's deduction, would Wizet think... that he was too eager to cover it up?
If he remained silent, would that, in Wizet's eyes, amount to an indirect admission?
Thinking took time as well. Even a second of hesitation might allow Wizet to gather fresh evidence and further confirm his deduction.
Joseph Bonanno had to admit that he seemed to have reached a dead end.
Perhaps every struggle, every breath he took, was proving one thing to Wizet—that Wizet's deduction was correct.
He even began to doubt himself. Had his own body, his own instincts, betrayed him?
At that moment, he was even somewhat glad that he had closed his eyes earlier, using that method to ward off Wizet's Legilimency.
It was the only move in which he had been one step ahead of Wizet. It meant he had not failed completely; there was still the slightest possibility of resistance.
At least... he could comfort himself with that thought and keep himself from losing all confidence.
Just as Joseph Bonanno tried to regain his confidence, Wizet slowly spoke.
"Let me guess... Mr.