"Are you satisfied with this answer?"
The voice of the Second Seat calmed down as he asked the darkness, his heightened emotions settling.
Applause echoed from the shadowy depths.
Apart from the few of them, another person was hidden in the darkness. The words of the Second Seat were not just directed at Bologue, but also seemed to be an explanation for that person.
A blurred and indistinct figure slowly emerged from the darkness, dressed in a neat and straight black uniform. His polished shoes stepped through pools of blood, crossing over corpses, and white gloves adjusted the tie at his chest, making it as straight as a sword.
"Ah, I said you must know something."
Mammon chuckled, reclining back as blood surged up, forging a crimson throne.
"Tyrant..."
