A BARGAIN WITH THE DAREDEVIL
I ask Habo, lifting him up by the collar of his shirt to pin his back against the wooden shelf full of books.
“Calm down, my lord, please. It's not good for your health to be this angry.” He tries to coo, stretching a hand to reach a fairly dusty old book on the last row.
“If you could please,” he adds, holding up the book to my face.
I let out a frustrated grunt and dropped him to his feet.
Habo hurriedly flips through the pages.
“It is written here, in the records, see?” He urged, pointing to a page.
Bab Populer