Cross the portal.

--

"!"

In an old disinfected building, where light bulbs flashed, barely illuminating an operating room that had been out of service for probably a century, a man with long black hair with a refined appearance and ruby red eyes was sitting in a wheelchair with his black coat that was dyed with blood.

But in front of him, more precisely on an operating bed, another person was firmly attached to it with a body bloodied by knife wounds every inch of his body.

But even if he was attached and barely breathed, as if he were at the end of his life, the vivacity of his eyes was so intense that anyone would understand that he was close to everything but death.

"Kuku, it seems the lord has finally passed a cape; now, he cannot return to his normal state." The man in the wheelchair announced these words with cold eyes that had no glimmer of goodness in them.