"...They came back?"
The Black Poison Faction Bishop looked like he'd been caught with his pants down—he knew exactly what Salimo was getting at.
He cursed under his breath—what the hell was camp leader Dunro thinking? Didn't he know this was the money man's special request?
Not even putting on a dog and pony show—how was he supposed to smooth this over?
The Black Poison Faction Bishop scrambled for an excuse and cleared his throat:
"Ahem, dear Lord Salimo, maybe the messenger ran into trouble on the way, so the camp leader never got your request."
Salimo's eyes flashed with pure murder. How many years had it been since someone had fed him such a load of bull?
The Black Poison Faction Bishop knew this excuse was weaker than watered-down soup and quickly added:
"But don't you worry—I'll send people right away to get that item for you, guaranteed!"
Hearing this, Salimo looked at him like he was a complete moron, his voice dripping with uncontrolled rage:
