Chapter Thirty Nine

Dante knew something was wrong even before everybody else did. It started with a trickle and then morphed into something else, something he couldn't decipher.

This is bad. Very bad.

But who cared? Nobody.

"You have a stupid look on your face when you're losing; it's cute," Crystal had a glint in her eyes, and Dante had to force himself to look away.

"This isn't fair; you know that, right? I'm all out," he flipped his cards, which was a bad hand. Gilgamesh tried his best not to laugh, but he couldn't hold it in anymore.

"This isn't my fault!" Dante defended, even though he didn't have to.

"He's a sore loser, isn't he?" Cincinnati said, boredom leaking through her voice. He'd noticed that she'd become a little more tolerant of him lately, and he didn't want anything to ruin that. She always spoke to him dismissively, but deep inside, she did care. Somewhat. He couldn't tell about her.

"Not only a sore loser, but he's also a lame one," Gilgamesh said good-naturedly. Dante had noticed t