"What's going—what's this about brother?" Clay stepped through the crowd.
"So, is your friend here a mage for donning this sort of ring or not?" Drez bawled at Clay.
"You're tripping brother, should I know him?" Fat-cheek Clay squinted now at Derrick the supposed mage—if his name really was Derrick.
Just how much worse could things get next time Ella got drunk? Who knew what she's getting herself into with such a man—a mage?
"I dunno, were we introduced by Current?" Claymal tapped his head. "By some guy like that. I don't know Drez."
"Were you drunk then? Schizo?"
Drez sighed and shook his head, but wouldn't let Derrick's hand go. Then he twisted it.
"Haha aah..." Derrick cried out, his knees bending to the force of the pain. His wristwatch dropped, but his punisher wouldn't spare
