He acted as though he was confused. Like the Monarch didn't say anything positive about the Cod. Like something of such sort. He looked the Cod over again with the impression of raising his hope for naught. His plans were hideous and probably trained by dimwittedness. There were obviously a lot etched or seeped in the eerie expression which his face puked. The Cod tried very hard to be patient and sane. Not to prick some hideous act. The porter looked through him, then past him, considering the plain. The Cod had no idea what kinda psycho such porter was. He probably was pawning him. He probably was a clown. That didn't matter to him. He hated jokes. If the porter did know who he was, he wouldn't prune such jolting jokes before him. A part of the Cod wanted to smash the Porter's head. He wanted to crush his guant guts and teach him how to deal with strangers. He thought over it again. He wanted t

Continue to read this book on the App

Related Chapters

Latest Chapter