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Shopping? Do You Think I'll Believe That?

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"President, the arrangents have been made," the assistant reported respectfully, bowing his head in the association office.

"How is it?"

The president frowned and asked.

"It will take a month to gather all the materials needed to restore the barrier formation. Most of the materials are corpses, so the ones granted from the Lord's side are limited."

"Tch."

The president clicked his tongue, a trace of disgust flickering in his eyes.

"Being able to feed on corpses is already not bad. Forget it, there's nothing we can do. Just leave it at that."

"Understood," the assistant nodded. "Then, do you wish for tomorrow's speech to proceed as planned?"

"As usual is fine."

After pondering for a mont, the president said, "It's just the right opportunity to use the speech to guide public opinion."

"Yes, then I will take my leave."

With that, the assistant stepped back, leaving the president's office.

Only after the assistant left did the president's expression completely darken.

He opened a drawer; seeing the now-empty space inside, his face twisted further.

"The relic is actually gone, and so is the championship trophy from the Hunting Tournant. Do they really think I don't know what they're trying to do?"

But...

"Only my assistant and I should know the password to this drawer."

Nothing changed even after probing around—everything appeared normal. Yet the password had clearly been leaked.

"Forget it," the president sighed, shaking his head.

It makes no difference. Even without evidence, killing them is fine.

The assistant still didn't know he had involuntarily beco part of a deadly disaster.

Just like how the trusted high-ranking chanic preparing the speech had no idea that soone was already targeting him.

In the slums, weaving among residents—most missing limbs and barely moving about with broken prosthetics—Ferran sighed, taking a loaf of bread from his coat and tearing it to share with several children at his feet.

A little girl, lifting up her prosthetic—a small hand made from twisted, rusty steel—happily grabbed the bread and stuffed it into her mouth.

Unable to watch any longer, Ferran turned to head ho.

Although scenes like this had beco part of daily life for Ferran, having lived in the slums for so long,

he still couldn't bear it when facing the children.

Unlike his teacher, luan, who couldn't even bear to watch the plight of adult slum dwellers and would make Ferran give out money,

Ferran wasn't as noble, but at the very least, children shouldn't have to bear all this.

"Ha, never thought you'd turn out to be a good person, Mr. Thief."

By his ear, Jiang Cheng's slightly mocking voice rang out.

Ferran frowned, silent as the air beside him rippled—Jiang Cheng's doppelganger appeared.

He still said nothing. Rationally, Ferran knew he ought to thank this Saintess who helped him take revenge,

but emotionally, he just couldn't feel grateful to soone who always sneered and showed no regard for human life.

After years at the bottom, Ferran had developed a unique skill for sneaking about undetected:

He could easily read part of a person's thoughts through their eyes.

What made Jiang Cheng the most terrifying was...from her gaze, Ferran saw not a trace of empathy nor any concern for humanity,

except when she looked at Lyle, that hero.

It was as if, to her, everyone but that hero didn't even count as people—maybe not even as living creatures.

That feeling, as though facing an entirely different species, made it impossible for Ferran to trust Jiang Cheng.

Yet after casing her out, he found that the plans Jiang Cheng offered were actually reliable,

and in fact, this might very well be his only chance at revenge.

He pulled out a box from under the table; opening it revealed a pile of complex parts.

The parts danced between his hands; before long, they assembled into a sleek little pistol.

He spun the gun in his palm out of habit, then began to wipe every piece down.

Tomorrow, he would use this pistol to fire his first shot of revenge.

............

On the other side, seeing Jiang Cheng preparing to head out, Lyle sidled up.

"Where are you going?"

"What?"

Jiang Cheng caught Lyle's aning at a glance and smiled.

"Still worried about ? Afraid I'll kill soone?"

"Ah, well..."

Lyle laughed awkwardly. "Honestly, that's part of it, yeah."

"Tch."

Jiang Cheng clicked her tongue lightly, shrugged, and said at last,

"Whatever, do what you like. If you want to watch over , then co along."

With a sigh, Jiang Cheng pretended to be helplessly aggrieved as she said,

"Haaa, what can I do when you're the great hero~? Little old , a re Saintess, has no choice but to let the hero do whatever he wants."

Lyle, who had just finished dressing, stumbled in place.

"Jiang Cheng!"

He raised his head; Jiang Cheng's innocent eyes t Lyle's almost exasperated stare.

"What's wrong?"

"Don't say things that can be so easily misunderstood!"

Lyle's annoyance was palpable.

"Alright, alright."

Shrugging, Jiang Cheng dropped the act, gave a playful bow and said, "As you wish, great hero."

After they had left, it suddenly struck Lyle that Jiang Cheng hadn't yet answered his first question.

"So, Jiang Cheng, why is it you want to go out, anyway? Aren't we going to the Temple of the Gods tomorrow?"

"Oh, that?"

Jiang Cheng turned and chuckled softly.

"That's actually just because I wanted to go out and have so fun. It has absolutely nothing to do with any sche or business of mine."

"Ah?"

Lyle was bewildered. Although his hero's intuition told him Jiang Cheng wasn't lying,

still...it felt off. It just couldn't be true, could it?

According to all the intel Lyle had gathered, the Saintess almost never liked going out.

Generally, she only stepped outside four or five tis a year—the rest of the ti, she was basically a shut-in.

The infamous Black Saintess was about to turn into the Shut-In Saintess.

Others were happy for Jiang Cheng to stay at ho—after all, every ti she went out, soone almost always died.

Even if her victims were typically gangsters or nobles, no one could guarantee that this most notorious of saintesses wouldn't simply kill anyone on a bad day.

So...what was Jiang Cheng going out for this ti?

In fact, Jiang Cheng's outing wasn't purely for fun,

but Lyle's hero's intuition was hard to fool.

Still...all Jiang Cheng said was that she wouldn't do anything, nor handle any business—

She hadn't said she didn't have others doing things, or wouldn't go watch an event unfold,

Yes, indeed—Jiang Cheng was going out simply to watch a show, one that she herself had orchestrated beforehand.

Evidently, the show hadn't started yet. So for now, she decided to simply go shopping.

So amid Lyle's confused and suspicious gaze, Jiang Cheng pulled him along to start shopping.

"What about this one?"

Jiang Cheng held up a trinket and turned to look at Lyle.

"Uh, looks nice,"

Lyle, clearly clueless, began his perfunctory routine of "nice, nice, yeah, it's good."

His mind was still spinning. Was it possible she really was just here to go shopping?

Of course not, because just then, a commotion broke out outside the mall. Vaguely, so shouts could be heard—

"There's a monster!"

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=

【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】

You are reading The Wicked Saintess Who Transmigrated into the Book Will Never Reveal Her Secret Identity Chapter 22 : Shopping? Do You Think I'll Believe That? on novel69. Use the chapter navigation above or below to continue reading the latest translated chapters.
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