That night, in the manor on the outskirts of Eastcliff where Lord Voodoo resided, a masked man knelt on the ground while reporting to Lord Voodoo what had happened that day. Lord Voodoo looked expressionless, but the anger in his eyes was apparent. "You bunch of morons! How dare you guys think about establishing an empire with hegemony when you couldn't even deal with a small fry? You're simply being delusional!" he barked in a cold voice.
The masked man prostrated himself on the ground. "We really underestimated Matthew this time, my Lord. Really, we never expected that even Somy Fall, the Grim Reaper, would be no match for him!"
Lord Voodoo replied coldly, "I've fought Matthew before. With his fighting prowess, he's absolutely the best fighter of the younger generation. Few in Eastshire would be able to kill him!"
The masked man fell silent for a moment. Then, he uttered between clenched teeth, "If nobody in Eastshire can kill him, I‘ll get somebody from some other place to kill him!"
Lord Voodoo was surprised. "Do you guys have any other candidates?"
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