The realization settled in like a death sentence.
The merchant stared at Nightflame, fear fully taking hold.
He had messed with the wrong person.
He had chosen the wrong target.
"Please… spare me," the merchant pleaded, his voice breaking as he dropped any pretense of dignity.
"There," Nightflame said indifferently, finishing up as he printed everything he needed. "I've found what I came for."
With a casual motion, he stored the laptop into his shadow space, as though it were nothing more than a trivial item.
"I have more information," the merchant rushed out, panic flooding his words. "Stored in my head. You will definitely need it."
"It's alright," Nightflame replied, his tone as calm as ever. "I've already processed every piece of information in your head."
He paused briefly, his gaze settling on the trembling man before him.
"As a bonus," he continued, "I've placed a command in your subconscious. The moment you stop seeing me… you'll do the needful."
