Dusk was barely able to stand, and that pitiful state made Lysandra hesitate to let him get out of bed just to answer the door.
But his sincerity made it hard for her to refuse. After all, turning down someone's goodwill was something that could hurt them deeply.
Sensing her worry, he simply smiled and said,
"You don't trust me? I told you, within a day, no matter how bad my injuries are, they'll all recover."
That smile, that calm aura—somehow, it put people at ease.
One had to wonder what kind of acting class Dusk had taken to reach that level of confidence.
"Fine then. If you say you're okay, go ahead," she said after a brief pause, finally nodding her approval.
If what he said was true, then there shouldn't be any real danger.
After all, breaking a few more bones wasn't going to kill him.
Dusk made his way down the stairs, and with each step, a new wave of pain surged through his body.
It felt as if his shattered bones were stabbing randomly inside him.
