8.06.4 A tired morning.

As Rosso awoke, he found himself treated as an odd delicacy by the little rats scuttling about the house. Unfortunately for them, his flesh was too tough for their teeth; all they managed was to lick the sweat and grime from his skin.

"It's noon?" were the first words to escape his lips.

He had spent over a day in a restless haze, and now he felt weaker than before—not merely due to the curse's backlash, but from hunger. "I apologize," he murmured, reaching for one of the startled rats that attempted to flee at his movement.

With a flicker of his transcendent strength, he caught it effortlessly. He raised it to his mouth but hesitated. "Of course." With a dismissive toss, he flung the rat against the wall, splattering it with a sickening thud.

Then, he retrieved a small ring that he had kept securely within his body. This ring contained a pocket of space, housing various items, from coins to preserved rations—precisely what he needed at this moment.