The conversation with the Sergent had petered out into nothing, though the assassin still left the table with a bow and peaceful goodbye. It was obvious enough that, even to someone with lackluster conversational skills like Venom, the two had gotten onto the wrong foot.

Unfortunately, those polite gestures were about all the assassin could force himself to do in order to fix that first impression. Sgt. Carter seemed far more interested in looking at the brighter side of things, to the point where it felt like he had no interest in leaving. Perhaps being here was a better alternative to being at war, but Venom couldn't claim to take interest in someone who wouldn't help.

At this point, the showers had become a test of his patience. He could only count one instance of entering the area without any open wounds and because of that, the steam and hot water always found a way to agitate his skin. An unhappy groan left his mouth as the water weighed down his bangs, effectively blinding him, and forced pressure onto the red line cut along his cheekbone. The water only ran down from there, dripping across his scratched arms and the stab-wound on his torso.

Needless to say, the Guild Head wished to keep his time cleansing short. For a moment, he could have sworn someone was staring at him. He kept his eyes to the tile until the soap had rinsed out of his hair, then immediately left the area to dry and get dressed.

He hoped she was better off than he was. He didn't want to hurt her...

[To the Sun Room.]