Marco p.o.v
They were laughing, especially Boris. He was laughing hard, he sobered up after a while of struggling to pull himself together.
“It's either you're a joker or a lunatic, I don't know which one to call you.” He chuckled. “I am called the combat master for reason, boy, I don't fight with little boys. Go and call your daddy, kid.” He said, thinking he was making fun of me.
He and his men laugh again, smug, and the situation without proper analysis if I had any means of surviving.
Again underestimating their opponent.
“My father is too busy for you, so he sent me.”
He finally notices my lack of expression, I stood there letting fool himself, And realized I wasn't playing.
“What made you think you can place a bet on my life and still win?” Boris grit, getting angry as I want
