"Ohh… is that so?" Riley muttered, a sharp glint flashing across his eyes as he narrowed his eyes.
He slowly crouched beside Harty, pulling up his head by the hair so he could look into his eyes.
The man's face was a mess—smeared red with his own vomit, along with a few strands of innards clinging stubbornly to his chin.
They seemed to wriggle grotesquely, like a pack of worms swimming in blood.
The sight was disgusting, but Riley didn't flinch, having already seen far worse than this.
He stared coldly at the pathetic man writhing before him and leaned in slightly.
"Or what…" Riley whispered, gripping a handful of Harty's hair before yanking his head up again. "Your demon friends are gonna come after me?"
Harty's eyes shot wide open. His mouth parted, trembling, but all he could let out was a choked gasp.
"…H-How… do you know about that?" he weakly muttered, his voice broken and wheezing.
Riley simply smirked.
