Dante checked his bracelet once more. It now displayed a timer of 48 hours. Dante breathed in a quiet sigh. He relaxed enough to stretch and take a more comfortable pose in the chair. The girl now laid in best, resting but not exactly asleep.
There was something strange about her, thought Dante. It was more like an aggregate combination of different things that made her strange. The small tattoo she had on her back, which Dante had no idea what it represented. The accent she sometimes had whenever she was distracted. And lastly the color of her eyes. She had brown eyes, but Dante thought they were contacts. Sometimes, he noticed they displayed a bit of red.
“Will you not spend the night?” she asked.
Dante was flabbergasted. It was an honor for someone as low ranked as Dante to have the opportunity to spend the night with a prostitute. After all, prostitutes were like nobles in the Red City.