Klauster Butcher's Office
Klauster Butcher stood in his private study, his massive frame trembling with barely contained fury. His face was flushed, his bald head gleaming with sweat under the chandelier's light. In his thick, meaty hand, the shattered remains of a crystal glass dripped with expensive wine and blood from where a shard had cut his palm.
"An artifact stolen from my estate? From under my very nose?!" His voice boomed through the room, shaking the delicate ornaments on the shelves. "How is this possible? How could no one notice?!"
The subordinate standing before him—a wiry demon in a tailored suit—flinched under his master's glare. "The alarm system was disabled, sir. The enchantments were disarmed before the thieves even reached the vault. By the time the secondary alarms triggered, they were already gone."
Klauster's fist slammed down on the mahogany desk, cracking the surface. "I don't want to hear excuses!!"
