"Kkhh… Crimson Order…" Ghost croaked amid the choking, causing Nero to squint at him with renewed interest.
"Ho… What do we have here?" he muttered as he pulled Ghost's face closer. "This burning hatred in your eyes… And your exotic appearance… Oh my, are you actually a member of the southern tribes we relocated some time ago?"
"R-Relocate your ass! What your people did was a fucking genocide!" Ghost growled through Nero's clutch. Gone was the soft, gentle voice he always used in his rare whispers.
"Really? But the reports I read stated otherwise. Are you sure you're not exaggerating?" Nero questioned. Yet, contrary to his words, the mischief tinting his smile was too apparent.
Ghost of course saw this too, so in his bubbling rage, he decided to forgo his neck and spun hard with the hope that his daggers would find their way into the bastard's face.
