Kaisen's curiosity itched at him like a persistent mosquito, urging him to flip through the diary and uncover every dark secret within its bloodstained pages.
But now wasn't the time for a casual read-through of someone's twisted love letter to a "Royal General."
The pages he'd glimpsed were filled with sycophantic praises for this mysterious "Royal General," and he figured it was best to save the creepy bedtime story for a more appropriate setting—like anywhere that didn't reek of death and decay.
He stuffed the diary into his inventory and turned his attention to the three flayed humans hanging like grotesque meat in a butcher's shop.
It was a stomach-churning sight, but Kaisen didn't exactly have a resurrection spell up his sleeve. And even if he did, would he use it here? Probably not.
After all, he wasn't about to play Dr. Frankenstein for a bunch of folks who might've been on the wrong side of feline justice.