The mystery of the disappearances in the WARP train was solved. Which didn't actually help us at all.

That Bloodfiend, Cassetti... He was way too powerful for us. The Sinners had become stronger since we started this journey, but there was still a whole world of difference between them and this enemy.

Fighting was no use.

Maybe Faust was right, and it was time for a gamble. Even if I wasn't quite sure which result she was hoping for.

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"Come on, Verg," Rodya tried, "just one more restaurant. Pretty please?"

Vergilius didn't even look up from the papers he was frowning at.

"No."
"But you and Fau both said money wasn't a problem for the company!"
"Oh, so you are now the company?" Vergilius deadpanned. "Don't get the wrong idea: our department has a specific budget. And I'm your Guide, not an accountant."
"Meaning you don't care?"
"Meaning I won't fill more paperwork for this."

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Heathcliff grinned at Ishmael who was staring in dismay at her half melting, bright green suit.

"Found yourself in a sticky situation, lass?"
"First, shut up. Second, if you want sticky, go see Sinclair, he's the one gluing papers all over the place, even on people."
"I– I'm not!" Sinclair protested.
"You are, Sinc..." Rodya sighed, pulling a talisman off her axe.
"Lastly," Ishmael went on, "the word you're looking for is goo in your face!"
<Guys!>

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