Mystery: My Encounters with the Celestial God

Chapter 197 The Twilight Hermit Society, Third Round (3K)

"You're not lying to me, are you?"

Seeing the little brat's wicked grin, the Red Angel Medici suddenly felt a familiar unease, as if she had been tricked by the other party.

The purpose of fooling Him is, of course, to give Him a goal and then get Him to work hard.

Just as the War Angel was getting increasingly uneasy, He saw the little brat opposite Him curl his lip in disdain and haughtily hum.

"Hmph, 2000 ml of blood from a mythical creature on the Hunter's Path, 100 g of Narcissus Essence, 30 g of Star Crystal, 10 lbs of Gold, 20 g of Brass, 6 g of Lapis Lazuli Fuel, and one Philosopher's Stone blessed by the gods."

He listened to the little brat rattling off a string of things that He had heard of or had not heard of, and became bewildered.

At that moment, the other person seemed to possess a beauty akin to that of an ancient sun god tutoring Him.

"Heh, this is the main ingredient of your body, a formula I just came up with. It's a perfect match for you, guaranteed to look like you were born with it!"

Ron patted his chest, looking down at the bewildered hunter with a sense of superiority born of knowledge and wisdom.

"There won't be many left. I've seen life-forging before, from the Church of the Earth Mother."

"Hmph, you know nothing! This was deduced by my invincible wisdom. How could a mere Earth Mother Goddess compare to me!"

"Alright, I've given you the recipe. Get to work! Consider this advance payment!"

The blond boy smoothed his long hair past his ears, jumped off the high-backed chair, and left without lingering.

"By the way, to tell you the truth, I have ways to get these materials. When you'll be able to have your own body depends on how well you perform at work!"

Just then, as he stepped out of the restaurant, Ron tilted his head, fed his newly acquired servant the last bite of a flatbread, and then left gracefully, without taking a single cloud with him.

"Damn it!"

Soren Einhorn Medici gritted his teeth and reluctantly ate the "delicious" flatbread.

At this moment, He felt completely controlled by that little brat, with no room for maneuver whatsoever.

After a few seconds of stunned silence, the angel king, who had been trapped underground for thousands of years, suddenly sighed, resignedly picked up the plate, and began to wash it.

Make money, not shabby.

After making grand promises, Ron went to look around the villa with a garden that he had bought a few hours earlier.

He looked left and right, silently noting down all the things he didn't like so that Medici could fix them properly.

Ron was quite satisfied with his residence in Backlund; after all, it was countless times more luxurious than that poor man's house!

"The lighting isn't very good..."

The blond boy looked up at the sky and suddenly sighed.

It was already noon.

Warm sunlight shone through the smog into Backlund, lacking the vibrancy of Tingen's city.

Ron leaned back on his sofa, holding a white quill pen in his left hand and pulling a silver cross pendant from his pocket with his right. A slight smile appeared on his lips as he detached a portion of his will and instantly arrived at the steeple church, which was situated in the ocean of the collective subconscious.

As is customary, the blond boy gazed at the magnificent church and sighed in admiration. He then let out a longing hum, and with a "bang," he pushed open the arched doorway and stepped inside.

His stride was so unrestrained, showing a newfound elegance and unruliness compared to his previous walks.

It was as if the church was already his.

Good afternoon, Mr. Time!

Without waiting or hesitation, Hermes's aged voice, mimicking that of a young girl, rang out, successfully causing the blond boy to pause in his tracks.

Good afternoon, esteemed scholar!

Ron's reaction was different from the previous times. He smiled and accepted Hermes' greeting, tilted his head and acted cute, and then politely greeted the old man opposite him in his youthful and pleasant voice.

Hermes was overjoyed by this greeting, his face flushed red, and he instantly lost himself in the moment.

Sigh~ I misunderstood him before, he was such a good person.

It seems that he felt his previous "complaints" had successfully made someone regain some conscience, understand the difficulty of their own work, and stop adding unnecessary burdens to him.

Hermes sighed inwardly as he looked at Ron, feeling that the little brat was becoming more and more pleasing to the eye.

Before the old gentleman could even exchange a few polite words, a white quill pen appeared in his field of vision. The quill pen was extremely fast and arrived in front of him in an instant.

Without a second thought, Hermes stood up, spun 180 degrees in mid-air, and instinctively grabbed the pen with an extremely graceful movement.

Before He could examine Him closely, He felt a barrage of gazes upon Him, one of which came from the head of the stone table and was so familiar.

"0-08?"

A gasp of surprise rang out from the members of the gathering. The voice belonged to a member of the gathering who was of a high enough level of strength and was relatively senior. Their eyes turned to Hermes, staring intently at the white quill pen in His hand.

Damn it! This is bad!

Hermes' smile froze on his face. He quickly raised his hand, trying to throw the hot potato back.

But at this critical moment, the blond boy's eerie voice echoed loudly inside the church.

"Scholar, this is for you. I know you have a problem with the leader and have always wanted to take his place, but because you are not strong enough, you can only secretly accumulate power and win over members, plotting your unspeakable plans in secret places."

"Don't worry, with my support and the members you've won over, we'll work together to oust Him. Once you become the first in Rank One, I'll support you as the new leader!"

Conspiracy my ass!

Hermes broke out in a cold sweat, because he could feel the "respectful" gazes of the gathering members, and he wished he could step forward, shut that brat's mouth, and give him a good lashing.

"Hey, Mr. Time, don't joke around like that."

"Scholar, please begin your plans! I'm all ready!"

Just as Hermes coughed lightly, intending to explain, a clear, bird-like female voice interrupted him, supporting Hermes's nonexistent, secret, and long-planned "evil scheme."

The scumbag witch Aria spoke up just in time, defending her master; she never missed an opportunity to flatter!

Why are you getting involved? What's it to you? I have no idea what your plans are!

Hermes' eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, seemingly surprised to receive support (backstabbing) from the party members under these circumstances.

"This is an inevitable trend, sir! It's the tide of the times!"

So, get started on your plan!

Seeing this, Ron pushed up his monocle again, his smile undiminished as he looked at the old man who had deliberately disgusted him.

"Uh, Mr. Time is joking. There's no plan at all."

Hermes broke out in a cold sweat, becoming the most dazzling figure in the room, with all eyes focused on him, including the person at the very head of the stone table.

The gaze of the person at the head of the stone table kept sweeping over Him, as if trying to see what dark, evil, and unspeakable plans this founder of human mysticism, creator of the ancient Hermes language, and second-in-command of the Twilight Hermits might have.

"Okay, I understand. It seems you want to continue hiding and make sure everything goes smoothly."

"Is Sequence One not enough for you? You want to be a dreamer?!"

"Sir, you certainly have a big appetite! But based on your preparations, I think this plan has a 98% chance of success!"

Shut your damn mouth! 98% my foot!

Hermes screamed inwardly, never expecting that this little brat would start persecuting her without any warning.

And call him a dreamer? Pshaw, if you keep talking, he'll be labeled a dreamer!

"Hey, don't listen to His nonsense. There's no plan at all. You all know me. I've worked diligently and tirelessly for the organization, and I haven't even closed my eyes for thousands of years."

"Furthermore, I personally handle everything for the organization's goals without any slackening. I deal with everything, big or small. How could I possibly have a bad plan!?"

Hermes articulated his own hard work and great achievements in a clear and logical manner. He seemed to be explaining to the members of the gathering, but the meaning behind his words was clearly not meant for them.

"So, Mr. Scholar, you really are complaining about the heavy workload and being full of grievances because the leader isn't doing anything, right?"

The blond boy pushed up his monocle, not about to let the old man off so easily. He changed the subject, but this only made Hermes more nervous.

You son of a bitch!

Hearing these unspoken words, Hermes was speechless for a moment.

At that moment, He knew He was doomed!

As an angel who observes the process, He naturally knows what kind of abilities this process possesses.

He believed that the leader could see His loyalty in Ron's "joke".

Although the leader could see through it, as a subordinate, He naturally couldn't act too calmly; He had to refuse righteously or deny it vehemently.

The reason He was so nervous was mainly because He was frightened by this little brat saying everything.

But now, the other party has managed to trick him into revealing his true thoughts, which is somewhat...

"hehe."

Two mournful laughs echoed, perfectly reflecting the complex emotions of the person involved. As a spectator, Hermes's performance just now was indeed somewhat embarrassing, and he had let down this channel.

However, at that moment, when He saw the numbers 0-08 in His hand, He understood everything at once!

Damn it! You scoundrel!

The old man, disregarding his own dignity, gave Ron the middle finger invented by Emperor Roselle, and then sat angrily on the high-backed stone chair, looking like he was giving up.

As Hermes slacked off, the magnificent church, adorned with gold and elaborate decorations, fell silent for a few minutes.

"Heh, now that everyone's here, let's begin the party."

Suddenly, a calm and gentle voice came from the head of the stone table, taking over the work that should have belonged to Him.

(End of this chapter)