Dark shadows cling to the back of the cold moon, daggers as thin as ice stick to his chin, charming eyes, staring at his delicate neck. "As a killer, your skin is really paler than a woman's, and your hands are so soft and boneless. No wonder the owner of the Tower regards you as a treasure!"

Although captured, the cold moon does not change color! He stared at the corner of his mouth somewhere in front of him, turned his right hand quietly, and bent his right wrist backwards at an angle that no one could reach, hiding a fine needle between his two fingers.

"Don't move around. If...