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... teen... I know the general appearance."

"Fist, knives, swords, and bronze hands, right? I wrote it down, people with this ability are easy to identify." The long-haired man said.

"Death" looked at the city from a distance.

"I'm going to kill him. I need his soul and something in him."

"Death" said anxiously.

"Don't worry, everyone with strong titles is investigating the problem in the city, so I can't give you the people in the city - we are looking for targets ...

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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?”

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