Sylas
"Come on, tell me who sent you," I hissed, holding myself back from hitting this elf again.
He pointed toward a narrow corridor on the west side of the base. "A-A woman… She works in the storage section of the kitchen. Her name is… M-Mila."
Mila?
I frowned. Her face didn't ring a bell. As far as I remembered, she wasn't the type to stick her nose in other people's business. Which probably made her the perfect target to manipulate.
"Alright," I muttered, already walking. "Let's go see Mila."
We headed down the corridor, and it didn't take long before we found her between the shelves in the pantry. Her black hair was braided into two. She was stacking flour sacks in the middle of the night—until she spotted me and froze.
"Mila," I called out casually. "Got a question for you."
She turned slowly. Her face went pale. "Boss Sylas...? C-Can I help you with something?"
I could hear the fear in her voice. Sweet.
