In the Abyss.

Harvey glanced down at the shackles binding his wrists, then turned to look at Ashe with an expression of profound grievance.

Lys chimed in emotionally, "See? This is what happens when you let yourself get dragged down by Ashe."

The others remained silent. Deep down, they all sympathized with Harvey's helplessness.

Ashe reached out, grabbing Lys's little face and squishing it back and forth. "Stop adding your own narration!"

Iger offered a faint smile. "Look at it this way, Harvey. The Gospel already knows you're going to commit crimes in the future, yet it didn't kill you on the spot. That alone is a huge gain. Now it's even rewarded you. You should be a little grateful to the Gospel."

Ashe eagerly agreed. "Exactly, exactly! Look, there isn't even a chain between those cuffs. The Gospel is clearly being lenient. You should take this time to properly reflect on yourself and reform."

Harvey's handcuffs lacked a connecting chain, meaning they didn't actually function as restraints at all. Instead, they looked more like decorative, or perhaps even "playful" accessories. Against his dark skin, they bore an unsettling resemblance to a captive's irons.

The necromancer grumbled under his breath. For a man who habitually carried a coffin on his back, with aesthetic sensibilities as unyielding as marble. He naturally couldn't care less about the cuffs' appearance.

After a brief inspection, Harvey shifted into his Mist Spirit form, instantly behaving as though he had received a fascinating new toy. He drifted excitedly over to the coffin and tapped on its lid. "Alice, this form really suits you. Once I fully master its mechanics, I'll configure it for you right away. Hmm? You don't like white mist? Then I'll experiment with some variations,...