Max let out a faint sigh, his mind flashing back to that moment he had pulled her from danger, only to have her send people to trouble him in return. It was almost laughable.
But before he could speak further, the yellow-shirted young man snapped, his face twisting with fury. "How dare you! Do you think you can call Miss Luna by her name like that?" His voice was sharp, carrying a hint of murderous intent.
"Why not?" Max shot back coldly, his patience wearing thin. "I saved her life. If she doesn't feel grateful, fine. But to turn around and repay kindness with hatred, to send people just to deal with me? That's nothing short of ridiculous!" His voice rose slightly, his anger evident now, the sharpness of his words like his sword—a direct strike meant to cut through any pretense.
Seeing him complain in such a tone, the young man in the yellow robe froze for a brief moment, as if stunned that Max dared to speak so boldly. Then his expression hardened into one of cold arrogance.
