"... Beg pardon?"

What did he just say? Wait a moment.. what WAS he? She? It. Whatever. The humble ghostagonist's devil's tails slumped before pointing at an angle towards the hulking, dragon-like creature thing that just called his name.

It actually really threw him for a loop. What if he was on a hit list via the god that cursed him, and this restaurant was just a big setup to lure him into a crowd of serial killers out to destroy him piece by piece, maybe for ransom or just the thrill of the kill-

He had to chuckle at this, and he did. His laugh came out as smooth as you would expect it to come from a half-spirit, and it was as shrill yet smooth as anyone could expect. The peculiar thing was that his voice wasn't the same way. He didn't sound demonic normally- perhaps he did that during his confused, somewhat panicked little chuckle to put forth intimidation? One as analytical as Cledwynn had to put forth all plans, as well as contingency plans, even the slightest of blueprints. The cranial ones, anyway. There were no true paper-made blueprints, no written thought processes, not even scrawls of crudely angled numbers scratched onto half-torn sheets of papyrus. Nothing like that. Just a man-ghost-bot and his brain. And his heart too, though it wasn't significant for thought.

Well, it was, but that was beside the point. He decided inwardly that he didn't need to think about that at the moment.

Instead, he shifted, turning his body towards that which had just greeted him.

"How is it that you know my name?"