"A lover? No wonder Angelica freaked out."
"…Yeah."
Lancel smiled bitterly.
In truth, Angelica had never believed him. She was a freak of nature in her own right, and Lancel had long since given up trying to make sense of her.
But if what Faust had been saying held any truth, then he could more or less guess the reason Angelica had tormented him all this time.
It wasn't even about Leticia anymore. It was because of this so-called Outer God that had cursed him.
But then again, Lancel had no recollection of what occurred that day. All he remembered was the final sight of Leticia's dying figure before everything went black.
When he came to, it was all over. Even Denim was dead.
Lancel had tried his best to forget all about it. About Leticia. About everything.
Because the more he tried to remember, the more questions piled up in his head.
Who was Leticia, really?
Why had she approached him in the first place?
Was any of it ever real?
And what did she mean by…
