Sabrina froze for a moment.
Hannah had told her before—before being confined here, these Sentinels had belonged to different combat squads.
Some had been close.
Others… had been rivals who loathed each other like sworn enemies.
That was why their cells were deliberately placed far apart—to prevent conflict, to keep their instability from feeding off one another.
As for Xander's deliberately provocative words, Sabrina felt both frightened and helpless.
Her gaze was fixed on the venomous snake, which was still slowly extending its body outward.
During training, she had learned that a spirit companion could not stray far from its Sentinel.
But even so, unease coiled tightly in her chest.
The snake's colors alone screamed danger.
Instinctively, she raised her hands and signed:
[Don't be angry. No. I deliver things. Then I leave.]
At her movement, the cold-eyed serpent stilled.
Only then did Xander truly take notice of her—through the eyes of his spirit companion.
She was slight and small, almost fragile—like a girl who hadn't yet grown into adulthood.
Soft, chestnut-brown hair framed her delicate, oval face.
Her large, clear eyes—dark and bright—were filled with tension.
Her hands moved quickly, forming gestures he didn't understand.
Even so, it piqued his interest.
They had actually sent someone who couldn't speak?
A dark, malicious thought crossed his mind—
When she dies, she won't even be able to call for help.
The snake slowly withdrew.
Sabrina immediately signed her thanks.
Still wary, she scanned the area carefully. Only after confirming the snake was no longer near the hatch did she quickly place the clean clothes and the note inside.
The items were swiftly coiled up and dragged away by the serpent.
A soft, ambiguous chuckle sounded from within after he read the note.
His voice followed—casual, almost lazy, yet edged with something chillingly cruel.
"Need something?"
A pause.
"I need you to tie up Fang Carlson and deliver him to me… so I can peel his skin off, layer by layer."
Sabrina had no idea who Ffang Carlson was—but she immediately shook her hands in refusal.
From above, that same amused voice drifted down again:
"Xander… you're as ruthless as ever."
So that was it.
Xander let out a cold laugh, his words slow and deliberate.
"With you, that's the only way."
"Oh my… how frightening~"
The other voice sighed lightly, unbothered, then fell silent.
Sabrina turned her attention back to the hatch.
"Go on," Xander said flatly. "You can't give me what I want anyway."
Hearing the dismissal in his tone, Sabrina quietly closed the hatch and moved on to the next cell.
Inside, the room was spacious—yet hollow, almost barren.
Light streamed in from a square window high above, falling across the sharp, pale contours of his face.
Xander lounged against the wall, one elbow resting on his knee.
The bridge of his nose cut the light in two, casting half his face into shadow—obscuring the expression in his dark, crimson eyes.
They lingered, heavy-lidded and unreadable, on the slip of paper between his fingers.
Hello. Do you need anything else?
A mocking smile tugged at his lips.
An idiot…
The kind who'd help count the money after being sold.
Unaware of his thoughts, Sabrina arrived at 103.
The fright from earlier still lingered in her chest.
The moment she opened the hatch, she instinctively stepped back.
Quickly, she placed the folded clothes and the note onto the tray. After confirming there was no dangerous spirit companion lurking nearby, she pushed them inside without hesitation.
But this time, the person inside was already waiting.
And, unexpectedly, he thanked her.
His voice was deep and resonant, rich with a quiet magnetism.
Sabrina blinked, caught off guard, and awkwardly waved her hand.
The hatch was only level with his chest.
Realizing he couldn't see her gesture, she slowly lowered her hand again.
Inside, he held the clothes in one hand, carefully reading the note before returning it.
A large, rough hand—calloused and worn—briefly came into view.
"Thank you for your work," he said. "I don't need anything for now."
The light at the hatch shifted slightly.
A sign that he had already turned and walked away from the door.