"Sorry, this one is still editing... wait who the hell will even buy a chapter for 1000 coins"
Elijah's eyes fluttered open.
Loop Twenty-Seven.
By now, he had stopped counting the hours, the days, the weeks.
The weight of time had long crushed any remaining hope or despair.
Instead of a frown, a smile crept onto his lips—and empty, hollow smile.
"Right about now…"
Right on cue as Elijah expected, the door burst open.
Marjorie stood there, slack-jawed, the metal bucket in her hands slipping as her body stiffened in shock.
Clatter.
The bucket hit the floor.
Like a broken record, this scene repeated—again, again, and again.
"Can we just skip this part?"
Before Marjorie could regained her expression and call upon Aliyah, Elijah immediately cut her off.