*Clap! Clap! Clap!*
Scarlet's wine bottle sat on the side table where she'd set it down without realizing, the rim still wet.
The Flame Monarch was leaning forward with both hands repeatedly clapping together, eyes wide, mouth working open and closed without producing a single word.
The woman who taunted S-tier monsters to their faces and delivered battlefield speeches that moved armies had been reduced to a goldfish impression, and she seemed dimly aware of this fact without being able to do anything about it.
Then... A tear slipped down her cheek.
Just one, quick and bright, and she caught it with the back of her wrist before pressing both palms together in one final, slow clap.
"I came in here expecting one thing," she said, her voice rough. "Debauchery of the flesh. Skin slapping skin. A big dick going in and out of five moaning chicks."
