After leaving the conference room, Crow had just finished a pleasantly satisfying sermon. Feeling loose and cheerful, he stretched a bit, and as he walked out of the Blood Vulture Corridor, he pushed his glasses up.
Recalling his conversation with the vampires just now, a highly interested light flickered in his gentle eyes.
It was a light that could be called "fanatic."
Like the look a psychopathic killer gives a victim, or a mad scientist seeing a new lab specimen.
It made his posture right now look very much like that of a big villain, but in reality he really was just enjoying this game's progression in his own way.
He himself kept a low profile, but among players he still counted as a middling sort of "legendary figure."
