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... e host’s skills are still pretty good, how could he possibly miss seeing the bites?

It’s just habitually making sure of the bites!”

“Securing the bites +1”

“When I usually fish for this kind of fish, I mostly strike as soon as I feel the bite, and most of the time, I catch a fish.

There’s also a small chance of a miss, or the fish getting off halfway!

The host’s slower response does seem much steadier!”

“Did you guys notice that detail when he was ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

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