Let’s have a toast. To the incompetence of our enemies.
The room was spotless and immaculate, every surface polished to a mirror shine. Elegant and minimalist furnishings were strategically placed in this sterile environment, pleasing to the eye but devoid of any discernible personality. Despite the wealth of open space, Shirogane seemed to take up every inch of it with his presence, oppressive and looming with just the slightest hint of menace, even when seated at his desk. The anemic excuse for a smile pulling at his thin lips spoke of unvoiced disdain, the air of a man who had never once been surprised by anything in his life.
The boy young man helped himself to a glass of incredibly expensive brandy, standing proud and reciting meaningless words with a confidence that was positively gauche.
He supposed Blake deserved his moment after earning the allegiance of the legendary dragon, Zekrom- No small feat, indeed.
“All warfare is based on deception,” Ginjiro replied quietly, steepling long and spidery fingers beneath his chin. “Controlling perceptions is always more efficient and effective than controlling by force. I wouldn’t be so hasty to make assumptions about your enemies, however weak and scattered they appear.”
Whether the Champion would take his advice to heart or not remained to be seen, but with any hope, Blake would exercise more caution in the future. One never could be overly suspicious, simply prepared.
“Did you have anything of value to report, or did you simply miss my glowing hospitality?”
