"Aren't we supposed to try on the clothes?"
Rory lay back against the waterbed, encircled in Wen's arms, asking in a hushed whisper.
"There's no hurry for the clothes," Wen chuckled softly, leaning down toward her. "Rory, have you guessed my secret yet?"
"Rank fourteen. I bet you're definitely at rank fourteen," Rory answered without hesitation. Vincent, with his rank-thirteen strength, could practically walk sideways everywhere he went, yet even he was somewhat wary of Wen. He had to be rank fourteen. Rory felt absolute confidence in her guess.
Wen shook his head. "Nope, wrong."
"Wrong?!" Rory stared at Wen in sheer shock. "If you're not rank fourteen, could you possibly be rank fifteen?!" Wouldn't that make him a Beast God or something?!
Wen remained silent, a mysterious glint in his eyes. "You've used up today's guess quota. Rory will just have to try again tomorrow."
Wait, what—?!
