"Hachimi, if I died, would you be sad?"
Greg followed the professor ahead of him, his steps as heavy as if he were marching to his execution.
He posed that soul-searching question in his mind.
Nightmare replied, "Art thou joking? I will not permit thee to die without my leave. Do not forget that our lives are now linked!"
"Oh, you've misunderstood."
Greg explained, "I don't mean biological death. I mean social death."
"Social death?" Nightmare paused. "Would that affect me?"
Greg thought about it. "Doesn't seem like it."
"Oh, then go ahead and die."
"?"
Greg immediately protested. "Didn't we agree to be each other's other half? Aren't you going to share my glory and disgrace?!"
Nightmare's tone remained utterly placid:
"What glory have we shared? Even the last time thou hadst that bitch kneel and do that sort of thing, thou didst not invite me to enjoy the sight."
Greg said, "...I didn't think you were still holding on to that."
"Of course."
Nightmare said coolly, "I hold grudges too-wait, this overpowering stench of a bitch. Speak of her, and she appears."
"What are you talking about?"
Before Greg could process that, the professor ahead suddenly stopped and gave a deeply respectful half-bow.
"Greetings, Your Holiness!"
Greg raised his head.
A tall, slender figure was approaching gracefully from farther down the corridor.
Her platinum hair cascaded down like a waterfall, gleaming softly beneath the corridor lamps.
Her eyes were slightly narrowed, and a gentle, holy smile graced her lips. A faint halo seemed to envelop her entire figure.
Even the most conservative holy robes could not completely conceal the voluptuous curves of her chest, assets so impressive that any ordinary man would struggle to look away.
Veronica approached the professor, returned his greeting with a slight nod, and