The silence at the reception desk stretches so long it becomes physically heavy.
Beside me, Arlo looks like he is about to go into cardiac arrest.
He is holding his breath, waiting for the lethal Dark Elf to pull a shadow-blade from her tactical vest and decapitate me right here in the marble lobby.
But Vera's face remains completely, flawlessly blank.
In reality, it's not murderous rage keeping her quiet. It's an unhandled system error.
As an apex predator, she is used to the scent of blood and the screams of her enemies. She is not used to being catcalled at her part-time customer service job. The scenario is so utterly absurd that her assassin instincts just...buffer.
After a painfully long pause, her deep purple eyes blink once. "No," she says, her voice entirely flat.
"Oh, well
