I shuddered at the thought. 'Why wasn't I affected by his ability?'
[Maybe because you're not from this world? And also because you maxed out your mental attributes?] the system replied, its voice dripping with sarcasm.
'I see,' I muttered, feeling slightly reassured.
For the next few minutes, I tried to ignore him—but the scent of cola tickled my nose, and his wet, sticky clothes brushed mine every time he moved. In the end, I handed the remaining chips to the crowd and poked two holes in the paper bag, using it as a makeshift shield.
Turning to him bluntly, I said, "Your clothes keep brushing against mine. It's annoying."
His gaze sharpened, deadly yet tinged with confusion. "Get lost, girl."
Out of some misplaced kindness, I offered, "I know a place where you can wash and dry your clothes. Follow me."
He stared at my outstretched hand, coldly replying, "I don't need your help."
