Creed turned around with a raised brow.
There he was.
Standing right at the spot where he was sitting before was the old monk again—pure white robes fluttering in the breeze like he was modeling for an ancient laundry detergent commercial.
A single, absurdly long strand of beard dangled from his chin like some mystical fishing line, and his eyes? Oh boy.
The dark circles under them had grown even deeper since the last time Creed had seen him. At this point, they looked less like shadows and more like two tiny voids trying to eat the rest of his face!
Creed couldn't help himself.
He smirked. "Old man, are you sure you're not moonlighting as a panda? Or have those dark circles upgraded into dimensional rifts of their own?"
The monk didn't even flinch. He put his hands behind his back, tilted his head like a bird observing a curious worm, and smiled the exact same creepy smile from before.
