Chapter 58: The Rain Man

Yaha held two cups of iced Americano as he took his seat. Although wearing a smile, deep down he felt no fondness for the tall, handsome white man before him—in fact, he even felt disgust.

The rich guy in his thirties across from him seemed ludicrously ostentatious just from his appearance. And for some reason, Yaha always found the man's gaze particularly revolting, like two tongues trying to slide into his clothes and wildly lick his skin.

"Moby Dick, that is my name," Moby Dick said.

"Just call me Yaha," Yaha responded. He took off his gloves and extended his hand.

"No, no, no—I certainly won't shake hands with you," Moby Dick said with a smile.

"You're very cautious, but don't worry, I generally don't use that kind of ability at random," Yaha said.

Moby Dick took a sip of his coffee, swirled the liquid around with his tongue, and after a brief moment, he frowned and spat the coffee onto the floor, drawing sidelong glances from the surrounding customers.