Chapter 88
"No, just something I picked up. It's a popular trick for playing dead," Max explained, reaching for a set of cosmetic powders. He applied a few finishing touches to Sylas's face, bringing just enough color back to look natural under banquet lighting. A simple wipe of a cloth would return Sylas's complexion to its ghostly pallor.
"Is everything I requested ready?" Sylas asked.
"Yes, though it wasn't easy sneaking it in," Max replied, gesturing to Toby, who walked over with a large bucket sloshing with a dark liquid—fresh cow's blood.
Sylas scowled at the smell. "The stench is unavoidable."
"It's as fresh as it gets," Max assured him.
Sylas sighed, mentally preparing himself. Then, taking a bowl, he started drinking from the bucket. One bowl, then another, and another. Each sip deepened his grimace, as the metallic taste made him want to spit it out immediately.
"Ugh, as bad as I expected."