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Busson, ranked twentieth in the family, had gentle-tempered Celerios above and hot-tempered Morax below. Years ago, when little Busson was born with a fuzzy consciousness, the first thing She saw was a pair of gentle black eyes, followed by a majestic golden tiger beside that person.

She didn’t understand what was happening and tried to reach out Her paws toward the black-eyed youth. The youth smiled at Her as if She was his only treasure.

She instinctively knew one thing: that was Her father, who had shaped Her existence with his own hands.

She later learned that the golden tiger beside the youth was Her big brother, fierce and powerful, so mighty that abyss demons within hundreds of miles would avoid him. Her second brother was omniscient and omnipotent – there was nothing he couldn’t do. The brothers and sisters after Her eldest and second brothers each had their own talents.

Thus, at a young age, She planted the seeds of slacking off in Her heart, thinking that since Her siblings were all so powerful, did She need to work hard? Of course not. She even found rational basis for this in Her father’s mories.

Slacking off was a demon’s life attitude. Demons lived to slack off, and all efforts were made to slack off better. Who agreed? Who opposed?

Moreover, Her father completely understood Her heart. Praise the great father!

Therefore, She was the most slacking demon, the slowest to level up among the demon siblings, the one who most frequently attended fourth brother’s private school, and also the one who most frequently entered big brother’s Infinite Trial.

The elder brothers’ “education” scared demons, but as long as you maintained the “slacking” life attitude, the elder brothers actually couldn’t force Her. As the saying goes, you can’t wake soone who’s pretending to sleep. As demons say, you can’t teach a demon who’s determined to slack off.

She was born this way and naively thought She could remain this way forever, until She lost Her father because She was too weak to protect him.

That day, She realized for the first ti that demons couldn’t slack off. If demons slacked off, they would beco weak, and if they were weak, they would be bullied and lose important things. But when She finally wanted to work hard, everything was already too late. Whether slacking off or working hard, She could never find Her father again.

In those years, whether to slack off or not, She wavered between the two, and finally chose to improve, leveling up together with Her other siblings, joining forces to kill the Abyss God. She persisted for over three thousand years, transforming from a slacking demon into a max-level demon.

After reaching max level, She felt She had reached Her limit. Thus, as the saying goes – a mountain is easier to move than to change one’s nature – She slacked off again. Later, She decayed for over four thousand years, finding everything uninteresting, unable to find life’s focus. If it weren’t for the bonds with Her many siblings, She would have surely lost Herself.

In fact, She had already lost half of Herself, living in a daze, wandering unkempt.

One day, Barbatos couldn’t stand it anymore and found Her, asking Her to help with so real work to add weight to Her demon life. At first, She thought Barbatos made sense, following Barbatos doing this and that, even listening to Barbatos’s suggestion to transform Herself.

Those days were truly bright, really seed aningful, but Her nature was just troubleso – no matter how interesting or aningful things were, She would get bored after just a few years.

Although Barbatos tried to keep Her, hoping She would continue to help, She still left, wanting to go to a place where no demon could find Her, cutting off contact with all demons. Finally, She went to the Secluded Forest in subspace, transford into Her huge original form, and buried Herself under black soil one handful at a ti, waiting for spring to bloom and seasons to change.

So, when Ayni earlier asked Her to co to the continent for the sisters’ eting, She brushed it off, saying She would co, but actually didn’t want to go at all. She was almost buried here, and at this point, digging Herself up would be too wasteful of soil. At most send an avatar?

She had noticed the cat-headed demon group but hadn’t thought much about it, assuming it was a new fashion among Her siblings. At least Zepar seed to think so, even posting Her trendy photos in the family circle. Wasn’t that the case?

She never expected that the cat heads were Her siblings’ signal of becoming inford demons, and now She too was a cat-headed demon.

Busson had been buried underground for many years, having just pulled Herself out of the soil, Her mind worked slowly. After several minutes, She turned to look at Bachin beside Her.

“When you said it, I thought it was fake – how could Father just co back like that? But unexpectedly…” it was true.

Busson repeated a phrase in Her heart, Her eyes reddening, Her form trembling.

However, Bachin wasn’t so considerate and continued urging, “So have you finished reading the event records?”

Busson choked, “I read the beginning.”

She paused halfway, Her gaze sowhat dark as She stared at Bachin and said, “I didn’t expect you all collectively deceived Father.”

Bachin imdiately put on a “I didn’t” expression and quickly said, “I didn’t deceive anyone, it was all Aelioge’s doing.”

“You didn’t deceive, you just didn’t say anything.”

Busson gave Bachin a glance.

Bachin spoke with righteous confidence, a dark color flashing in His eyes, “We can just collectively sacrifice Aelioge later, after all, Aelioge started the story.”

Busson suddenly said, “Aeli is Aeli, not Allen.” (TL: not sure what this ans)

Bachin was indifferent, seeming to already have a plan, and changed the subject. “Anyway, read quickly, don’t drag it out. I know you’re always slow with everything.”

Busson wanted to say no, Her gaze moving from top to bottom, frowning as She said, “There are quite a few events.”

“Read quickly.”

Bachin didn’t know how many tis He had urged Her, His gaze fixed on Busson, examining Her for a few glances.

Many years ago when He saw Busson, She still had the appearance of a scruffy old man. Now She wasn’t scruffy anymore, but was still as gloomy as ever, wearing dark style clothing, loose clothes and pants, extrely casual. This kind of dress shouldn’t have any aesthetic appeal, but sohow it was quite harmonious, perhaps because Her looks overca everything. Busson’s current appearance looked like a seventeen or eighteen-year-old girl.

Father was a beauty enthusiast, and they, worthy of being their father’s children, were also all beauty enthusiasts – no demon would create an ugly face.

Thinking of this, Bachin beca inexplicably proud again, reaching up to smooth His bangs back, as if applying hair gel, making His bangs neat and gleaming.

Beside Him, Busson glanced at Him, thinking that confident demons were really scary – was the family gathering going to be a beauty competition? But who could compete with Second Brother? It felt like they weren’t even in the sa dinsion.

Busson didn’t voice Her criticism, quietly reading through the group’s tiline, Her expression changing repeatedly, unpredictable. When She saw Big Brother’s return and beating up the group of demons, She exclaid in excitent. “Well done! One punch one head, blast them all!”

Beside Her, Bachin gave Busson a subtle look. As one of the demons who got blasted, one sentence from Busson could trigger Her psychological shadow.

Busson continued reading as if nothing was wrong, digesting all the information in just half an hour, then rubbed Her chin, falling into thought. After a few minutes, She said, “So in summary, our main task now is to capture the Evil of the Universe and defeat the Creator God, right?”

Bachin nodded, “Yes.”

At least Busson wasn’t a stupid demon. Stupid demons like Zepar still didn’t know what was happening, always silly and grinning, seeming to never have any worries, which in so sense was also a good thing? Just too punch-worthy usually.

Busson continued. “And the side quest is to complete the history re-editing and explain our Abyss Lord identities to Father, right?”

After speaking, She side-eyed Bachin.

Bachin nodded affirmatively again. A clear-headed demon was a good demon, requiring no effort to explain things to.

But Busson fell into deep thought, motionless for a long ti.

Bachin quietly waited for Busson, initially able to maintain patience, but after half an hour passed, His patience gradually ran out, and He couldn’t help saying, “What are you thinking about? Haven’t you finished thinking yet?”

Busson’s eyes were heavy as She unconsciously said, “Don’t interrupt—”

Bachin paused, also realizing that Busson seed to have grasped so key information.

Suddenly, Busson turned Her head, looking directly at Bachin, “Tell , is it possible that we’ve t the Creator God before?”

Bachin imdiately beca alert, “What do you an by that?”

Busson said in a deep voice. “Your portrait of the Creator God’s divine character is cold, majestic, arrogant, a dictator, a totalitarian, right?”

Bachin’s heartbeat quickened, imdiately saying, “Yes. What, have you t soone similar?”

Busson was silent for a few seconds, then slowly nodded.

Seeing this, Bachin imdiately beca fully alert, urgently prompting, “Quick, tell

the details.”

Busson took a deep breath, Her eyes gleaming with light, Her fingers unconsciously breaking a vine wrapped around Her neck.

“It was hundreds of years ago,” She slowly recalled, “I was with Sitri at the ti.”

“And then?” Bachin couldn’t help but feel sowhat urgent.

“We saw it at the sa ti,” Busson’s speech slowed, each word full of weight, “a being that looked very much like Father.”

Bachin froze imdiately, staring with surprised eyes.

Busson continued. “At that ti, Sitri thought it was father, so He chased after it, while I was so shocked I stood frozen in place.”

“Where was this? What exactly happened?”

After thinking for a mont, Busson slowly said, “That place, I vaguely rember it was an ancient god relic, how ancient I don’t know, but it felt at least ten thousand years old.”

Sitri liked ancient things, His domain contained countless antiques, and He would often go to ancient god relics, sotis just to look, sotis staying for long periods. She didn’t know what Sitri was thinking, but could feel that Sitri seed to be troubled by sothing. During that ti, Sitri was always preoccupied, His expression gloomy.

Busson had asked Sitri what was wrong, but Sitri didn’t say. Sitri’s appearance at that ti reminded Her of Lelagin before He disappeared – Lelagin had also been so depressed before. So She was particularly concerned about Sitri’s situation then, fearing that Sitri would also suddenly disappear.

Later, She went with Sitri to explore the relic. To be honest, that relic wasn’t anything special, the journey was peaceful, with no surprises, so traps but not many, built very perfunctorily. Powerful magic or divine arts could maintain their power unchanged for tens of thousands of years, but the divine arts in that relic were diocre, posing no threat to them, showing that this place wasn’t any important relic even in ancient tis.

However, when they reached the depths of the relic, an “accident” occurred.

Perhaps it should be called an illusion?

At that ti, a pure white phantom appeared before them. That form and appearance were identical to their father as they knew him, but the expression and deanor were completely different. Their father had always been gentle and approachable, but this phantom was extrely cold, making Her feel chilled at first sight. Busson instantly felt nervous and afraid, completely lacking the joy of seeing Father, frozen in place, unable to move.

But Sitri seed deeply attracted by this phantom, walking towards it step by step. However, when Sitri got close, the phantom suddenly disappeared. Sitri stood frozen in place, not turning back for a long ti.

She was deeply impressed by this, bringing it up many tis, asking Sitri what He thought, but Sitri was always very silent, only saying—”I will find Him.”

She didn’t understand why Sitri was so fixated on a phantom, although that phantom was indeed suspicious.

But after that, She separated from Sitri. Sitri’s whereabouts beca unpredictable, rarely attending family etings, and She had even fewer chances to et Sitri.

Busson told all of that experience to Bachin in detail.

Bachin was well-inford and experienced, but in over eight thousand years had never seen any phantom father, let alone one with a reversed personality setting.

What was going on? How to understand this?

Logically speaking, even if it was an illusion, that phantom should have projected their mory’s image like a mory beast would, how could it be a phantom with a completely opposite personality? This completely defied common sense. Busson’s reaction was the most normal reaction, being shocked into rigidity was appropriate. As for Sitri……what was He thinking? How could He even walk towards it?

Bachin went through it once and felt that both the phantom and Sitri had strange aspects.

Busson lowered Her eyelids, suddenly sighing. “These years, we’ve been scattered in various corners of the universe, information has been blocked. Forget about Sitri, I don’t even know much about many siblings’ movents and thoughts.”

Busson was a demon who often felt the universe was empty. Precisely because of this, She especially cherished the family’s existence. In Her view, perhaps everything in the world would beco aningless, but family would always be the most aningful existence—it was Her ho, and also Her harbor.

Bachin seed to understand Busson’s feelings very well, quickly contacted Barbatos, then said, “Barbatos is looking for Sitri, should find Him soon, you can ask Him then.”

Busson nodded, then changed the subject, saying seriously, “But to get back to the point, I brought this up because—”

Bachin seed to have already guessed Busson’s intention, jumping in to say, “You think that phantom was the Creator God’s shadow.”

Logically, the two were more likely unrelated, but sotis a demon’s intuition could be very accurate.

Busson had been obsessed with that incident until today. After seeing the description of the Creator God, Her mind had a flash of inspiration, as if She had finally figured it out.

“I dare not say it definitely is. But I can’t say there’s no connection.”

Bachin pondered, “If that’s the case, you and Sitri would be the only two demons who have seen the Creator God.”

Busson looked at Bachin, questioning, “But don’t you want to ask? Why did He use our father’s appearance?”

Bachin was silent for a few seconds, “It could be a mirror magic, or maybe—”

He seed reluctant to say that possibility, looking at Busson, instead saying, “Don’t think too much about it for now, Busson.”

Busson paused, “But……”

Bachin smiled, putting His hand on Busson’s shoulder, comforting, “Guessing riddles is pointless, we’ve guessed for a long ti before, it’s better not to guess. Anyway, we’ll know soon enough. Rather than this, you haven’t seen Father for so long, why don’t you go see him?”

At the ntion of father, Busson’s eyes lit up, Her mood excited.

However, in the next second, Bachin suddenly changed the subject. “After seeing Father, then go to the Infinite Trial.”

Busson choked, “I haven’t hidden anything from Big Brother.”

Bachin shook His head, “It’s not about punishing you, I’m suggesting you go beco stronger. You’ve slacked off since you were young, but you’re not ignorant. You should know what ti it is now, right?”

The Creator God was up in the sky or sowhere eyeing them covetously, not knowing when He would strike. Being weak would drag everyone down, understand?

Busson looked into Bachin’s eyes, wanting to speak but stopping, silently making so ntal preparation, then solemnly nodded.

Bachin seed to have predicted She would agree. Of course, when even the most mischievous little Ayni had gone in, how could Busson tolerate Her own “weakness”?

Seeing Busson’s enlightened look, Bachin couldn’t help smiling, asking, “So have you decided on your breed?”

“What breed?”

“Cat breed.”

Busson opened a space channel, just about to step out when She was almost knocked into the depths of

indecision by Bachin’s one sentence.

That’s right, they were cat-headed demons now! How could they not decide on their cat breed? Cat design was very important!

Busson imdiately opened the family group, Her gaze scanning over each cat head.

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