“Oh? Is that so?” Poison immunity wasn’t unheard of either. He only had to look at Basilik or Isaak; although, Isaak didn’t resemble a human being any longer. He only had to gaze up his eyes to spot black bottomless pits staring back at him. Dietrich never found this unnerving in the slightest, if he had fully humane eyes, he would have never learned anything from that man. “How lucky for you.”
A bad experience, hmm? He would have to ask on another occasion. “I’m done, too,” he commented, taking the red apple with him. He tossed it up the air and pulled the credit card from his breast pocket, giving it to Damien before catching the fruit again. “I’ll look forward that. Maybe next time we could meet in a more private setting,” he suggested, half dropping his eyelids. “There’s that intriguing secret organization tale I’d love to hear.” He neither disclosed his location or under which name he was inscribed. Dietrich was comfortable and felt oddly kindred with Damien. That was both unsettling and interesting. Still, nobody like himself was trustworthy. He had a first-hand experience of his own modus operandi.
He waited for the waitress split the bill and returned his credit card. “Good evening, Damien,” he bid farewell at last, nodding at the man’s direction before turning around and taking a bite of the bright, red apple. “Sweet dreams.”