The state of the home was no better than the outside. The walls were worn and old, bearing stories only they had ever witnessed. But instead of taking them elsewhere, the old granny led them into what looked like a small kitchen.
"Just wait a little," she hummed gently at the young men seated stiffly on the chairs. "I'll prepare your tea. You may want to put your bags and other things down and relax. Don't worry! I wouldn't mind even if you took your shirts off."
The men didn't answer. They didn't even want to process her words.
All they did was sit rigidly, eyes downcast, faces etched with horror. They had been on many missions before, but this was the first time they felt they were about to endure this kind of mission.
Now they understood why no one was coming to this brothel.
Pika pursed his lips, lifting his eyes toward the granny.
"Granny…" he murmured, on the verge of tears. "No."
