"How much more genre would they like to take?"

Greyson squinted his eyes while looking down at Kimsmeth, the author of his world. He continued to doubt that the creator of his world and the person he was looking down on were the same person. 

He felt iffy about how Smith looked scared and clueless. 

"Hey, Tell me. Why do you have to send me to Ethel's world?" 

"When did I ever do that?" Smith responded right away. He was still plotting his way out of his room, but his short and careless response made Greyson angry. 

"When? You sound like you don't even care." Greyson pulled out a dagger from his coat and threw it to Smith.

Fortunately, the sharp dagger only landed on Smith's side, scratching his skin lightly, but still the blood caused Smith to panic even more. 

"P-please don't kill me! I really don't know!"

Smith rubbed his palms together as he kneeled down and begged for his life.