Vichy ran back to the living room on the first floor and stopped. His breathing became shallow and fast, his face became ruddy, and his heart was pounding.
The words of Arthur echoed in his mind, and Vichy spat: "I still want to take my ghost prophet to be buried with me, so go to dream!"
She took a deep breath, slowly calmed down, emptied all pink thoughts in her mind, and became a normal devil maid.
She turned to see the milk coffee drink can on the cabinet, picked it up and tried to throw it into the garbage can, but shook it with her hand, feeling that there was still one tenth of it.
Just then, Vichy remembered a small thing.
...