““By the way, why doesn’t Crux hire someone who can cook? Like, I’m sure there’s one or two evil chef around that he could find, right? This tastes awful. It’s like my mouth is rejecting me.” I said, when I took a bite of his bread. I took the word ‘fluffy’, it was more likely to be a murder weapon. If you had about dozen of it and mixed it with poison in case the target had really strong skull. “You eat it anyway.” he looked at me blankly. “And that’s mine.” “I’m hungry and nobody’s perfect.””
