Shadow must have done something unknown this time, gravely crossing the godfather's bottom line.
Shadow let out a suppressed shriek, holding his face in his hands, blood gushing from between his fingers, so dense that the stench of blood in the air was strong enough to make one feel nauseated.
Blood splattered onto the ground, an eyeball resting in the godfather's hand, his palm covered with deep creases stained with fresh blood, so cruel it made one tremble.
But there was not a hint of pity on the godfather's face; looking at the eyeball, he sneered with contempt, tossed it on the ground, and trampled on human life without a care.
"Shadow, do you hate me?"
"No…" Shadow released his palms, half his face was covered in blood, so horrifying yet so indifferent.
