Durrell Landon processed several important docunts. At this ti, he inadvertently discovered a file, his eyes had a nuanced expression, and handed it over to Charles Foote nearby, smiling faintly as he spoke:
"Knight Tamworth, you might be very interested in this person, I’ll leave it to you to handle."
Charles Foote took a glance, and a rare hint of nace appeared in his usually gentle eyes, "Leaving this person to , aren’t you afraid I’ll kill him?"
Durrell Landon said indifferently, "If you kill him, I’ll cover for you."
Hearing this, Charles Foote chuckled.
For the first ti, he laughed so freely, so at ease, so relaxed.
"Durrell, eting you has been my blessing over several lifetis."
The person in the file was Peter Lowell, who was dissatisfied with Simon Storm taking the position of Pope, led so brothers to leave The Church, and established a new organization—Blazing Thunder Hall.
However, back when Peter Lowell hadn’t left The Church, he was still a thug in Scavilla City, and before he was adopted by the Foote Estate, he was often bullied by this Peter Lowell.
Beaten up, forced to kneel and beg for rcy, and finally chased out of Scavilla City one snowy night. If it wasn’t for Violet Foote taking him away, he might have died that snowy night.
Now that Peter Lowell has fallen into his hands, he certainly won’t let him off easily.
The creed he believed in was an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.
...
Cetery.
The cetery of Scavilla City appears to be shrouded in a layer of mist throughout the year, and even the tombstones seem to be covered with a thin layer of fog.
Even though the mist obscures clear vision, one can still see that there is no inscription on the tombstone in front of them.
Simon Storm had been standing in front of this blank tombstone for one or two hours now, the humidity from the cetery dampening the strands of hair on his forehead, his soft black hair hanging down, giving the always gentle and elegant him a delicate and fragile beauty at this mont.
At this ti, a car slowly stopped, and two people got out from the car.
The black-clad bodyguard beside Simon Storm imdiately tensed up and blocked in front of him.
In the swirling mist, only a vague and ethereal silhouette could be seen in the distance.
Simon Storm gestured for the black-clad bodyguard to step aside, looking coldly at the approaching person.
"The Raven and The Church have always occupied different sides, never interfering with each other, what are you here for today?"
Aaron chuckled, "Naturally, I’m here to deliver a gift to the Holy Father."
After finishing his sentence, he threw Peter Lowell, who had only one breath left, onto the ground.
"Holy Father, this man was your branch leader, he caused several of our brothers to be in the ICU uncertain between life and death, but the master said, in consideration of the Holy Father, only his muscles and tendons were severed, leaving him alive, now we return him to you, no need to thank."
The black-clad bodyguard beside: "..."
The guy’s in such a state, and they call that leaving him alive? Might as well have just killed him outright.
Simon Storm glanced at Peter Lowell, who lay on the ground like a dead fish, finally speaking after a long while: "He has long since left The Church, he has nothing to do with The Church. Since he ssed with The Raven’s people, whatever fate awaits him should naturally be determined by The Raven."
Aaron on the side thought of rolling his eyes, don’t think he doesn’t know, The Church has always wanted to annex The Raven.
If they truly killed Peter Lowell, Simon Storm would have a suitable reason to deal with The Raven.
"Holy Father, I’m just following orders, leaving the man to you, whether he lives or dies is entirely The Church’s affair."
After saying this, he turned and left the cetery without looking back.
After leaving the cetery, Peter Lowell, lying on the ground, struggled to emit a weak breath:
"Holy Father...save ...save ..."
Simon Storm didn’t even spare Peter a glance, turned coldly away, and said to the bodyguard next to him:
"Kill him."
The cetery was the perfect place for burying bodies.
The black-clad bodyguard executed the order, shooting Peter Lowell in the heart without hesitation.
The scent of gunpowder instantly perated the cetery.
After finishing, the black-clad bodyguard’s eyes subtly hardened, looking at the elegantly handso man before him, untainted by even a speck of dust, a complex expression slowly surfaced in his eyes.
"Master, it’s ti to go back. If you don’t return, the old man will surely be angry again."
Ever since the master ca back last ti, he would visit the cetery now and then, not knowing who exactly was buried beneath this blank monunt.
But he knew, every ti the master ca to this monunt, his mood would turn sour, and if the old man knew the master was visiting this monunt, his mood would worsen.
Hearing this, Simon Storm slowly exhaled.
"Let’s go."
Before leaving, he raised his eyes to look at the sky still obscured by mist.
Soon, the old man will no longer be able to interfere in anything he wants to do.
...
Next day.
Imperial View Manor.
Quiana Sutton rarely lingered in bed, she just felt she slept well yesterday, not plagued by nightmares, nor swallowed by those deep, dark mories.
She took out her phone and casually browsed through, seeing a revelation from a gossip site at that mont—
The latest news, OK! Magazine’s October cover features Quiana Sutton and Evelyn Windsor.
Below was a mass of comnts.
[???]
[What rits do Quiana Sutton have to appear together with Evelyn Windsor in a magazine?]
[One is an Oscar queen, what’s the other got? A few idol dramas? It’s simply unfit to put them together for comparison, isn’t it?]
[Why is Quiana Sutton so disgusting? Previously mimicking Queen Evelyn’s makeup and clothes, now wanting to get on board with a magazine? Fake or not, she’s repulsive, isn’t she? Doesn’t she think if she’s worthy?]
[Is this revelation fake then, blogger? Hopefully, you’ll quickly delete your account and go ho babysitting.]
[Exactly, these two aren’t even of comparable level, if they honestly shoot a magazine together, I’ll livestream eating dung.]
[Actually, it might not be impossible. Didn’t Quiana Sutton previously endorse the Manjushaka series? Maybe she has financial backers?]
[Are you implying Quiana Sutton’s financial backer is Alexander Skylane?]
[Refusing to latch onto fa, our Sky Master is a man of integrity, he would never engage in such acts of patronage.]
[Even if it’s not Alexander Skylane, it could be soone else, her face doesn’t make one doubt the backing of a financial sponsor.]
...
At this ti, an online video beca wildly popular, catching much of the attention.
[SOS, Help, who is this man, he’s so handso? I feel like I’ve rediscovered the feeling of romance.]
In less than ten minutes soone replied.
[This man is Nathan Firth, a world-renowned artist, praised as Da Vinci reincarnated. By the way, where did the original poster spot him?]
The original poster imdiately responded: [Airport.]
She casually fild out of boredom, inadvertently spotting such an extraordinarily handso man, instinctively capturing him, without expecting he’d be so distinguished.
Respondents instantly had an epiphany.
[No wonder, Nathan Firth is likely here to hold an art exhibition.]
Others had already gone mad.
[Why is a man who paints so handso, completely overshadowing the so-called male gods of the entertainnt industry.]
[What incredible luck the original poster had to et Nathan Firth.]
[By the way, do we need tickets for his exhibition?]
[Of course, and it’s not sothing money alone can buy.]
[Crying, why didn’t I find out earlier, if I rush to get tickets now, is it still possible?]
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