The Black Mask's Pocket Dimension
A couple of minutes must've passed since Future Ambrose led Rose to the one thing they've been getting wrong about the Archon roaming Aurelia.
The SS-Rank was still left speechless.
That blood the police found in the LA hotel room wasn't random. Somewhere out there—a person who was supposed to be dead had their skin being worn by an Archon.
All they knew now was that she was a blonde woman.
But if they stopped asking who killed the man at the bar and started asking who walked out of that hotel room…
"Yeah, I've got to go tell the others," Ambrose gazed at his future self.
Future Ambrose regarded him for another long moment before the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"There is something else you've wanted to ask me for quite some time."
Ambrose blinked.
Oh?
"...Is it that obvious?"
"It usually is."
