The smell of blood begins to build up in Pops' home.
Pops towers over the assassin, while I remain seated on the dry ground by the bonfire. The lighting is dim and the atmosphere is humid. This environment is normal for a runaway.
The assassin-s***h-guard provokes me. “Pierre Ray, I assume that you want to question me, or else something bad would happen to me."
“What's your name?" I ask.
“Tom." He grits his teeth as he answers.
“What's your family name?" Pops forces.
“Zaph."
“Tom Zaph," I repeat to myself.
Tom nods to affirm that we have heard and pronounced it correctly.
The names here are modern. I know Tom's name, but I still do not know Pops' name.
“Tom, I would require you to continue with your compliance or else face repercussions," I threaten before I
