He did not know how the Negaverse worked, though he had assumptions. He doubted that they would have chosen a waste of flesh to represent them, and if that logic held true, then that meant that there was something to Bazzite that just revealed itself yet. Benitoite believed in him—and Benitoite did not seem the type to invest himself in a hopeless endeavor.
“One day,” he promised, bumping elbows with the Negaverser in a modest attempt to reassure him. “Maybe you’ve just gotten the s**t end of the stick and only run into all the badass, top notch opponents so far, hmm? Or maybe they’ve all had combat training. Your day will come, I’m sure. You just have to keep at it, find your groove. Maybe hit up the gym or take some martial arts lessons? I mean. Boxing might be the best thing out there, but I suppose it’s not for everyone. You could always look into some of the classes they dabble in at the gyms. The one I go to’s got more than I can name.”
…Mostly because they were in another language, but hey. Nobody was asking.
Lucifer Force
