According to Geoffrey, this damned place, the Great Rift, has been in chaos for decades. No matter how hard you try, you can't change it in just one or two days, nor will it completely slide into the Abyss just because you didn't put in enough effort for a day or two.
Order is an interesting thing; even in a madhouse, it has its corresponding rules, even if those rules are bloody.
After saying these words to himself, Geoffrey showed that damn smile and then rejected Bologue's overtime request.
"This is a rare opportunity, Bologue, you must seize it."
Geoffrey's hellish words kept swirling in his mind.
Bologue sat in the sidecar of the motorcycle, looking blankly at the night view of Opus, letting the cold wind blow through and scatter his thoughts.
"Relax, Bologue, Belli isn't a monster; she won't eat you," Palmer shouted loudly while riding the motorcycle, trying to cover the engine noise, "Tomorrow is not some experiment; she just asked you to pick up the gear."
