Chapter 1287: Chapter 433: Eat when you should eat, drink when you should drink, don’t take anything to heart_3
All Hexuno could see was the back of his head. In front of colleagues, especially those who recognized who she was, he refused to flirt with Wayne.
“Co here!”
Wayne transmitted his thoughts through telepathy, issuing a command that made Hexuno freeze where she stood.
Wayne stepped forward, lowered his head, and planted a kiss on her forehead, then wrapped an arm around her slender waist and led her into the hotel.
The continuous cries of despair were music to the ear—absolutely delightful.
Behind them were Heya in a fit of rage, and Kiraal, who couldn’t bear to watch and retreated straight into the little black room.
Kiraal logged off, and Kel logged on. With a look of bewildernt, he stared at the restaurant’s entrance: “How did I get here? When did I get off the vehicle?”
“Kel, you’re back?”
“Huh? When did I leave?”
Kel blinked, vaguely grasping the situation, raised an eyebrow, and smugly said: “So, how was it? Witnessed the power of a half-awakened state?”
“Oh, we saw it. Kiraal even said you’re a low-life who doesn’t understand restraint. He’d rather die than rge mories with you.” Wayne sneered.
“Hmph, I am him. That stain is one he’ll never erase—not admitting it doesn’t change a thing. It’s only a matter of ti.”
“You’re not worried about being erased yourself?”
“What’s there to worry about? At least I’ve had my fun!”
“…”
Fun? Watching it hurt more than anything.
Wayne had nothing to say to Kel’s carefree attitude. Once a Reincarnated Angel awakens, the power resides with the angel’s mories. In situations of overwhelming strength, the angel can choose to rge mories and preserve their human side or completely overwrite their mories, leaving no trace of human influence.
Hexuno and Heya chose the forr, refusing to let thirty years’ worth of mories disappear entirely. As for Uriel, he likely opted for the latter, keeping only the key details while washing the rest into fragnts with the eternal mories of an angel.
What would Kiraal choose…
A re bystander; mories this bad are better left forgotten!
Wayne figured Kel would likely vanish—if Kiraal retained anything, it’d only be very minor fragnts.
But given Kel’s deanor, he evidently didn’t care.
“Let’s go. You don’t have much ti left. Tonight’s on —eat, drink, do whatever you like, but don’t let the worries burden your mind.” Wayne tightened his grip on the secretary trying to escape his embrace and leaned down for another kiss.
“Ugh~~~”
Kel’s face twisted in discomfort, waving his hand as he exclaid: “No, thanks. Your two lady friends are too ugly—I’ve lost my appetite. I’ll head to the Fallen Angel Bar; now that’s my paradise.”
You truly are quite the fallen one! x3
Watching Kel’s swaggering silhouette fade into the distance, Wayne shook his head and entered the restaurant with the secretary and bodyguards.
Since you’re already here, might as well eat before anything else.
————
Simultaneously.
Buckingham Palace, Royal Private Dining Room.
A long table, white tablecloth, a phonograph playing graceful tunes—the dining environnt exuded nobility and elegance.
Not to ntion, incredibly expensive!
Queen Sophia hosted three distinguished guests from Heaven, dressed in lavish attire. The sapphire necklace adorning her chest glead dazzlingly.
The guests were none other than Uriel, Auga, and Fred.
Auga and Fred quietly savored an authentic French al that even Frank couldn’t experience. Witnessing Uriel’s foul mood, they stayed silent, afraid to provoke him.
A call summoned the last two Reincarnated Angels from the Papal State.
Good news: Vikul and Kiraal were both exceptionally powerful Seraphs—top-tier combatants even in Heaven.
Bad news: Their power was too overwhelming. Both, as mbers of the Seven Virtues, claid to represent Archangel Lar on earth and refused to take orders from Uriel.
Their stance was simple: They’d co at the summons of the Saint Heir, aiming for power struggles and potential paralysis.
In a futile attempt to persuade Uriel, Kiraal even lied, claiming that Lord Pride was currently in Lundan, trying to coax Uriel into reconciling with Hexuno.
Needless to say, Uriel was utterly livid at the mont.
The seven Reincarnated Angels had splintered into three factions, leaving Uriel with limited manpower. Fortunately, Hexuno’s situation was even worse; only Heya accompanied her.
In terms of numbers, Uriel felt he held the advantage.
Well, numbers ant very little; in the Seraph’s battlefield, ordinary angels served more as atmosphere and were mostly useless.
Uriel believed he maintained leverage because of one simple reason: Lord of Envy had verified it—Hexuno, growing self-indulgent, had succumbed to worldly romance, losing herself to societal trash.
This Archangel was already a ruined shell. Uriel confidently believed he could easily defeat her, reclaim power for the Windsor Family, and return to Heaven to carry on his camaraderie with Michael.
The victory was assured!
This was a guaranteed win!
There was nothing left to fear now!
“Your Majesty, is the intel on the Lando Family fully prepared?” Uriel set down his wineglass and picked up a white napkin to dab the corner of his mouth.
Very elegant.
The Queen was even more elegant.
Sophia exuded regal grace; a touch of extra grooming rendered her breathtakingly beautiful. Add in her labels: “Queen,” “widow,” “mother of two,” and anyone would be bewildered upon eting her.
Unfortunately, Austin wasn’t swayed by such charms, nor did Uriel have worldly desires. Those lustful insectoids were entirely unworthy of the Queen’s attention, which was why the beauty trap had yet to succeed.
“Lord Uriel, regarding intel on the Lando Family, only one dossier has been prepared for now.”
“The Lando Family is quite complicated?”
“Indeed.”
Sophia nodded earnestly: “Certainly. The Five Churches—Sun, Nature, Moonlight, Darkness, and Death—all support the Lando Family. Not to ntion, the Papal State and Heavenly Father’s Court once sent emissaries to Windsor. On that particular day, the envoys and mbers of the Lando Family engaged in vibrant discussions.”
If there had been another choice, the Queen wouldn’t have had to wear black stockings and show her thighs before Austin.
Each ti her ex-boyfriend cast a scornful glance, it pierced her heart like a knife. The feeling was indescribable—a pain beyond words.
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