Taffy strolled into Fumus' office, his classes wrapped up for the day. He had anticipated seeing the God of Kumo-no-kuni, absorbed in his work as usual. However, to his bewilderment, Fumus was absent. A frown creased Taffy’s brow, perplexed by the emptiness of the room. It was highly unusual for Fumus to be away from his desk at this hour. Knowing Fumus' rigid schedule, Taffy felt a ripple of unease wash over him.

Determined to find his superior, Taffy roamed the castle until he finally discovered Fumus ensconced in the serenity of his personal library. The vast space was lined with towering shelves laden with leather-bound tomes. There sat Fumus, comfortably settled in an opulent chair, legs crossed, a cigar leisurely smoking in his grasp, sending delicate tendrils of smoke spiraling into the air.

As Taffy's footsteps echoed softly, Fumus’ attention shifted sharply toward him, swiftly snapping shut the book he had been studying. His piercing gaze landed squarely on Taffy. Fumus clicked his tongue in annoyance, fixating on the head angel before him. “You’re late. Again.” His voice sliced through the air, layered with impatience. “I’m beginning to suspect you find some twisted joy in making me wait, don’t you, my little bird?”

A knot of tension tightened in Taffy’s stomach as he watched Fumus reach for something beside him, bracing for the worst. But his eyes widened in disbelief when he saw what materialized—a bowl overflowing with chocolates. Cautiously surprised, he felt a mixture of trepidation and bewilderment. This was not the ominous fate he had anticipated. Fumus offered the bowl with a blend of irritation and warped amusement. “Don’t just stand there gaping. Go on, take one,” he instructed, a hint of impatience lacing his tone.

Taffy paused, processing the unexpected twist of generosity from the God. It was unlike Fumus to extend an invitation of indulgence.

Tentatively, he reached for a piece from the bowl, his hand lingering momentarily before settling on a choice. Fumus observed, a smug smile gracing his features as he reclined in his chair, his cigar dangling between his fingers, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Eat it,” he commanded, almost playfully.

Taffy complied, and as the chocolate melted against his taste buds, a wave of sweet delight flooded over him. It was heavenly... but as he savored the moment, his bliss shattered, replaced by the metallic taste of blood. Panic engulfed him as he spit out the chocolate, horrified to discover the source of his suffering—a small, glimmering razor nestled among the sweetness. Fumus watched the chaos unfold, a cruel amusement dancing in his expression, his smirk morphing into a sinister grin as the reality of the moment settled in.