After exchanging a few words with her three sisters, Olivia Quinelly couldn't resist taking another peek. Damien noticed and thought, 'Again?'
Startled, she hastily averted her gaze like a frightened cat. But a few seconds later, her curiosity got the better of her, and she peeped once more. This ti, Damien was prepared. He responded by playfully covering his lower region with his hands as if he were exposed.
His playful gesture didn't go unnoticed. Laughter erupted within the hall, especially from the three ladies who burst into fits of hysterical laughter. One clutched her stomach, while the other two slapped each other's backs. Olivia Quinelly blushed even deeper. The atmosphere grew uncomfortably awkward for her. Though naturally shaless, she couldn't help but feel embarrassed for repeatedly looking where she shouldn't have.
Summoning her confidence, Olivia snapped, "Enough, or I'll make you stop!" She then turned her head away, as if the matter was no longer of any concern to her.
The three n whom she had earlier teased about their "junk sizes" exchanged knowing glances, noting her newfound shyness. It seed she had fallen head over heels for the towering figure.
Breaking the silence, Damien called out to Alexander, "Mister Alex, about our earlier agreent. Can you arrange for to et Sir Theodore?"
Alexander gazed at the vacant fourth throne and shook his head, saying, "Brother Damien, please grant so ti. If Theodore isn't present today, it ans he's caught up in a busy schedule, and I need to make the necessary arrangents to contact him."
"In that case, I'll wait," Damien replied.
Olivia Quinelly gracefully rose from her seat, landed on the floor, and began striding toward the exit door. Just as she approached the door, she declared, "Theodore owes a favor. If you truly wish to et him, follow ," before exiting without looking back.
"Thank you, Sister Olivia!" Alexander rose and bowed slightly in gratitude. Olivia casually gestured with her hand without turning around.
"Brother Alex, I'll take my leave as well. I greatly appreciate your efforts," Damien said with a courteous nod as he descended to the ground.
Scratching his head, Alexander responded with a wry smile, "I didn't do much."
"No, I'm here today because of your kindness. We'll et again soon," Damien replied before swiftly exiting the hall, concerned that the inquisitive lady might leave him in the dust.
Once he left, the other mbers began discussing him.
"What are your impressions of our new twelfth Brother?" Ruthella inquired, her tone businesslike.
"Weak!" Rogger responded briskly.
"I disagree; he's not weak, but perhaps the least experienced mber in the history of the Shadow Hunter Association," Jagoi added.
"Still, he's the second person to pass the Trapping Formation with ten thousand steps. I don't think he's weak at all," Ruthella defended the newcor.
"I concur. He's not only handso but also a rare talent," Pickrum harrumphed, displeased with Rogger and Jagoi's cynical comnts.
"At least we have sothing in common. I think he's the real deal, and he has an interesting D—" Rashmimita began dreamily, but Ruthella quickly interrupted, "Hold that thought, girl. We can continue that discussion privately, not here." She turned her attention to the tenth throne. "Brother Pathfinder, you're the only one who spent a significant amount of ti with Mister Darhk and recruited him. Would you care to share your opinion?"
Alexander didn't offer an imdiate response. After pondering for a minute, he finally spoke, "An enigma, the association needs the most." With that, he vanished into thin air. Though his words were brief, their underlying significance ran deep. In his view, Damien was a person who could effortlessly handle a Juvenile Shadow Fiend, even with the strength of a purple rank. Damien had also managed to pass the trial set at the maximum level, as well as the final trial presented by their enigmatic leader, Lunar Goddess. Alexander's suggestion implied that Damien was a perplexing but undeniably talented individual.
"Enigma, my foot!" Drax exclaid.
"Yes, enigma, indeed!" Roger chid in.
Shaking their heads, the three ladies left the hall in disagreent, while Jagoi, Drax, and Rogger struggled to co to terms with the fact that a re Purple Ranker was now among their ranks. They had no choice but to accept it, as Damien had t all the criteria for mbership. Their mixed feelings were driven by various factors: Damien's mysterious background, their disapproval of the ladies' reactions to him, and a tinge of envy for his unparalleled talent.
"I'm not giving up any of my land," Rogger stated firmly.
"That's not an option. Have you forgotten Article 361 B?" Jagoi reminded him.
"Once a new recruit joins our ranks, it's mandatory for every forr mber to transfer at least 5% of their overall net worth to the newcor," Drax recited.
"Argh, are we really going to follow this rule?" Roger grumbled in annoyance.
"We have to. Rules are rules. But we still have ways to work the situation in our favor," Jagoi said with a mischievous tone.
"Like what?" Roger inquired.
"Such as giving him a portion of our infertile and undesirable land," Drax explained.
"Exactly, we all have so of those lands devoid of any resources. We'll offer them to him as our welcoming gifts," Jagoi suggested. "In a way, we're helping him. What can a Purple Ranker achieve on our lands? He'll be fortunate to survive a day."
As they discussed their plans to allocate their gifts, they received a telepathic ssage from the Lunar Goddess. She conveyed, "Since Damien Darhk, the Twelfth in rank, has joined the association under my trial, all mbers are exempt from enforcing Article 361 B. Only the first two mbers may gift their lands if they wish. For one, I have granted him 20% of my land, and the fate of the last mber will depend on chance. Good day, ladies and gentlen!"
Upon hearing these words, a wave of mixed emotions swept through the mbers. On one hand, there was a collective sigh of relief as they realized they wouldn't have to part with any portion of their hard-earned net worth. The tension and worry about sharing their resources with a newcor were suddenly alleviated.
However, a tinge of jealousy still lingered among so of them. Damien, a re Purple Ranker, had received a generous gift from their esteed founder. While they were no longer required to contribute, they couldn't help but feel envious of the special treatnt he had received. It was an unexpected turn of events that left them with a complex blend of relief, jealousy, and curiosity about the newcor's role within their ranks.
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