Capítulo 1088: Chapter 426: Daphne’s Doubts (Part 3)
If, on this basis, they could rope in Pioneer No. 4 or No. 5, then…
Allison suddenly frowned.
Where did this confrontational mindset of his co from?
Why couldn’t it be him and his ho planet cooperating with the White Ghost?
Allison pondered quietly, but when the problem looped back to the present, he realized he’d hit a dead end in his train of thought.
The Empire and New Federation are two opposing ideologies.
Unless he gave up everything from the New Federation, his ho planet would automatically beco an enemy of the Empire upon reaching the Milky Way.
From this perspective, collaboration with the White Ghost was impossible for him.
‘Only lateral alliances will work.’
Allison sighed, feeling a bit of a headache.
This Ghost is too tricky to deal with.
…
Sherman Empire, the lounge at a large party in the Emperor Star Circle.
Daphne sat in front of the mirror scrolling through news, surrounded by three makeup artists deftly adjusting her makeup.
She was the only star in the lounge, a stipulation of the Empire’s royal security protocol; Boss Yang had assigned four combat maids to guard the door and windows, scanning the area vigilantly—even though security was already strict outside.
With a ding, a ssage popped up in Daphne’s private inbox.
She gestured, and the three makeup artists imdiately turned around.
Daphne opened the ssage, her expression changing several tis.
It was a ssage from the Antenna Organization, starting with:
[Your Highness, the Ghost Duke is on the Head Star of the Yada Democracy, closely involved with a woman.]
Daphne sighed at the news, then began consoling herself; theirs was a superficial marriage, a political alliance. She had gained considerable benefits and privileges through maintaining a surface relationship with Yang Ming, gaining influence both with her father and with the elite faction of the Sherman family, as well as among the Empire’s citizens.
This was a deal already well-worth the trouble; what more could she ask for?
Still, that guy sure is a charr.
The next line read:
[Many witnessed the Ghost Duke riding with her, shopping together, maintaining formal distance but entering so entertainnt venues together.]
‘He should be mindful of the impact, and now I’m stuck cleaning up.’
Daphne thought to herself.
Her gaze moved down, seeing several high-definition images that made her finely drawn brows furrow in confusion and puzzlent.
He’s dating… this kind of woman…
Oh, sorry, she shouldn’t use such words to describe a woman; that’s not graceful.
But this!
Daphne enlarged the picture, set it to a three-dinsional projection, scrutinizing Papaloka, unable to resist glancing down at her own ticulously maintained figure, then sighed with amused resignation.
“He likes this kind, should I go makeup-free for a while?”
The makeup artists perked their ears.
Daphne muttered softly, deleted the ssage, and called out. The three makeup artists quickly turned and busied themselves again.
anwhile.
On the Head Star of Yada Democracy, in a deluxe private room of a certain entertainnt place, Boss Yang’s forehead was filled with black lines as he covered his ears, speechless at the middle-aged woman performing guttural screams that sounded like heavy tal.
This was tornt!
It’s not that Yang Ming hadn’t heard bad singing before, but this was the worst.
A middle-aged man approached, wiping cold sweat from his forehead, and whispered a few words in Yang Ming’s ear.
Boss Yang nodded, and the man quickly walked away.
Within less than half a minute, the music volu automatically lowered, and the door opened to reveal a line of young n, dressed only in dress pants, sporting eight-pack abs, each carrying a dish of delicacies, smiling as they entered the room.
Yang Ming turned to look at Papaloka, raising an eyebrow in that direction.
Papaloka paused, then gave a helpless smile.
“What a waste!”
“What?” Yang Ming asked, puzzled.
“Resources, gender resources,” Papaloka gestured toward the male models, “I only need one; am I embarrassing myself, being so timid even when indulging?”
Yang Ming’s forehead crinkled with black lines: “They only perform, not sell themselves! They’re here to accompany your singing!”
“Oh,” a male model giggled, “if it’s for soone like you, we wouldn’t be opposed.”
“Get lost!”
Yang Ming nearly grabbed a wine bottle to throw, causing the n’s faces to pale, their chest muscles trembling in fear.
Boss Yang snorted: “Get so girls!”
Hmm, he wanted to prove his own preferences, not indulge or anything.
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