"Dean, we were just discussing the game you're playing. I swear, I didn't say anything bad about you."
Seeing Dean's darkening expression, Harry, who had just been badmouthing him, felt his insides clench and hurriedly explained.
He knew the man in front of him all too well—seemingly handsome and refined, genuinely good to friends, but not particularly forgiving. Those criminals who had provoked Dean were probably already lining up to reincarnate. Once Dean had you in his sights, even a passing dog that barked would have to endure a couple of slaps before it could leave. Harry certainly didn't want *this* guy sending him to the night market district to try out the 'police after-hours reemployment program.'
The usually impassive Carlo also instinctively lowered his head, pretending to look at some documents. Daisy, however, watched Harry shrink back, covered her mouth with a giggle, and helped deflect the attention. "Dean, how's that 'The Fallen Hero' game?"
