"Potential subordinate detected, Sir Sylas Grimblade. Would you like to subjugate him?"
The voice of the Omnimous wasn't quiet at all. In fact, Old Brama's lip couldn't help but twitch when he heard it.
"Ha, hear that, old man? If you had taught me instead of Psycho Syl here, you would've gotten better bang for your buck. Now you might be enslaved. How's it feel?"
"Do you ever shut up, brat?"
"This is how I stay sane around this guy," Alex said with a laugh.
Germaine was still on the floor nearby, trying to nurse her wounds and failing to do so.
"Go out. I have things to do," Sylas said coldly.
Old Brama sighed, shook his head, then turned to leave. He looked to the side, waved a hand, and grabbed Germaine as well.
By this point, they understood that if Sylas's bottom line was threatened, his patience was limited. And Old Brama had no intention of testing that bottom line—not right now.
