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"So," the Monarch of Decay said, "what's with this affinity for Spirit World Creatures that inexplicably appeared in me recently?"
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"I don't know." Edward was puzzled too. He gave the Forgan Hound sniffing around his feet a couple of perfunctory pats. The hound frantically licked the places he had touched, then swiftly ran back into the Historical Void. It was hard to tell whether this was disgust or affection. Many other strangely shaped Spirit World Creatures circled him curiously, seriously impeding his progress.
"I clearly haven't come into contact with any High Sequences lately, or encountered any Sealed Artifacts connected to the Spirit World..."
"Klein? Unlikely. He's only Sequence 7. Even if it has something to do with him, it should only be because of certain things behind him."
"Didn't I fail to pry at his soul before?"
"..."
"This really is troublesome." Edward walked around the clustered Spirit World Creatures. "Beria hasn't made any moves. He must be hiding. I wonder what the Beria Family will do. I'm really looking forward to them attacking me."
The Monarch of Decay extracted this strand of thought and dispersed it, preventing the Beria patriarch's Devil senses from detecting it. Twenty percent of him-Edward-had ideas of his own. He did not respond, sinking back into the depths of his consciousness. Amon the Typist was strolling along a branch, holding a model Rocket Launcher and taking it apart and rebuilding it with great interest, exploring the construction of this unfamiliar device.
Seeing the Monarch of Decay return, this Amon did not immediately stand to show respect, but greeted him quite casually instead. He had long since discovered that although this deity had the word "Monarch" in his name, he actually demanded little of others' attitudes toward him. Nor did he enjoy conversing