"You..."

"Do you mean to say that Curseborn, aside from those disgusting nobles, also deserve to die?"

"Are the guards and security working in the bar, who are just seeking a job, also deserving of death?"

"They are all just ordinary people, they are helpless!"

"You, someone who has never experienced hardship, how dare you say such things?"

Merka set down the cardboard in his hand - it was a keyboard practice board that Lady Malya had drawn for him to simulate an organ keyboard. He said angrily to Turing across the table.

"You say they are helpless... Hmph."

"Couldn't Curseborn have united to resist?"

"They have all been given relics, haven't they?"

"If every Curseborn given relics had the courage to stand up against those nobles, to fight to the death."

"How dare Mersa Bar still hold such a cruel event as the Crimson Spire?"

A coldness flickered in Turing's eyes corner, as he said disdainfully.

"Don't you remember? That Curseborn girl!"

"Despite knowing she was in battle with Curseborn, she still massacred her own people, insulted the dead for a mere couple of packets of poison. Clearly, at that time, she was willing to do anything to please the nobles!"

Turing would feel a slight twitch in the corners of his mouth whenever he recalled that scene, a nauseating feeling welled up, as if she wanted to vomit her lungs out.

"People like that are completely rotten! Ruined!"

"She deserves to die, to perish beneath shattered stones."

"Turing... you..."

Merka stared at Turing with eyes full of intense hatred, rendered speechless in his anger.

Licking his dry lips, Merka was obviously truly enraged now.

Furrowing his brows, he fixedly gazed at Turing without the slightest retreat.

"You have never experienced true hardship!"

"You, a noble who understands nothing, do you know what true poverty is?"

"What do you know about fighting to the death?"

"What do you know about being ruined, destroyed?"

"Even if we Curseborn were truly wicked, ruined..."

Isn't it all because of you aristocrats!"

"If you match us back against the wall, if it's not for you heartless aristocrats playing with people's lives..."

"Would Othello die?! Would Juliet die?!"

"Have your hands touched yeast water fermenting flour? Have your tongue tasted the dry bitterness of tree bark?"

"Has the blade called poverty ever fallen upon you? Has the seed known as hunger ever taken root and sprouted within you?"

"You have never even seen the smallest denomination of copper coins..."

"What right do you have to judge other people's suffering?!"

"How dare you so casually deny the torment endured by the victims just to survive?!"

"How dare you... How dare you decide the fate of others so easily?!"

"Is it just because you have power in your hands?! Is it because you are the most esteemed and authoritative person in this world?!"

"…Mer…"

Turing was stunned.

Looking at the red-faced Merka in front of him, Turing's eyes suddenly filled with glistening tears.

Turing blinked desperately, trying not to let the tears fall.

"You actually said I haven't experienced hardships…"

"You…"

Turing choked up, crying out like a thirteen-year-old girl of the same age.

"…Sob, sob."

Seeing this, Merka probably realized he had gone too far. He turned his head away gently, no longer looking at Turing.

But if you look closely, you will notice that on the half of his face turned away, his eyebrows were twitching in pain.

"Sigh, Granny, this situation doesn't seem right."

"This seems different from the usual little squabbles."

Jose on the side also froze, looking confused he whispered to the equally bewildered Mariana beside him.

"I…I don't know, what's happening suddenly?"

Mariana stopped her work, worriedly watching the two arguing, contemplating something.