Miss Wang Weina, even your cousin won't do!

"Both of you are masters of Originium Arts based on the spiritual realm, so I will describe the current situation in detail..."

Wayne immediately raised his hand to interrupt:

"No, no, no, please keep it simple and get to the point. It's not that I can't understand, it's just that our time is very limited, isn't it?"

Michael was taken aback. His carefully devised plan to spend more time with Wayne had been seen through at a glance. He felt a mixture of admiration and exasperation at Wayne's lack of romantic understanding. But Wayne's point was valid; he still had Wei Yanwu's matter to attend to and couldn't linger. He quickly composed himself and explained:

"You both know about the Empire of Consciousness, right? Each person's consciousness is connected to an ancient territory. Most of the time, our consciousnesses are isolated islands shrouded in mist at sea. Only in rare cases will our consciousnesses connect together. This includes when a mental mage casts a spell."

Wayne nodded. Michael's meaning wasn't hard to understand; a mental warlock was like an earth-shaper, the kind who builds bridges.

No wonder there are so few mental warlocks; they've all run away with their buckets.

Michael's voice didn't stop. She pointed at Wayne, then at herself: "There was a little accident just now. When I was connecting with His Highness Wayne," she suddenly licked her lips for some reason, "His Highness Wayne was too big, and I couldn't hold on, so my side cracked."

Wayne's lips twitched. He had a feeling that if Michael continued talking like that, it might not be her who got sick, but him.

Theresa, let me explain. This girl's good and evil thoughts must have separated. Yes! That's it. She was always a saint, always good, and then suddenly her personality split, resulting in a personality reversal. That makes perfect sense, right?

Wayne then went on to say things like: Taoist practices of eliminating the three corpses, good, evil, and attachment, the trinity, attaining immortality, and other incomprehensible words, filling the room with a cheerful atmosphere.

Michael smiled and waited for Wayne to finish explaining before continuing, "But as you can see, a fragment is just a fragment. If she is the continent of the Consciousness Empire, then I am just an isolated island overseas. Although I successfully resisted another fusion with the help of His Highness Wayne, as you can see, unless His Highness Wayne can give me more, I will probably be overtaken by her after I am completely exhausted."

Theresa frowned and retorted:

“But I don’t remember the Saintess of Lateran having such a temper.”

Mostima made it very clear in the bar that Michael was a mysterious, arrogant, and aloof woman. The white Michael's demeanor did fit this description, but the black Michael was far too different. Moreover, she and Wayne had only met for the first time. Even if they had shared a rare experience of "heart-to-heart talk" or "spiritual connection," it was hard to say that they had an overwhelming level of affection for each other.

Theresa didn't believe Michael's claim that "Wayne is my father." If she were Michael's own consciousness, after being shattered and split apart by Wayne, her power was greatly reduced, her mental strength was severely damaged, and the power of her Originium Arts might not be able to recover for a long time. It would be good enough if she didn't hate Wayne, how could she still regard him as her benefactor?

Michael nodded, and to Theresa's surprise, she readily admitted it:

“You’re right, Your Highness. Michael herself would never do such a thing. In fact, it’s a good thing she doesn’t share my memories, otherwise she’d probably be so ashamed she’d be steaming with embarrassment if she knew what I did, like…” Michael glanced at Wayne and uttered a term that sent chills down Wayne’s spine: “Oh right, Steam Princess.”

Wayne's breathing suddenly quickened, and the teacup slipped from his hand and shattered on the ground.

"What did you say?"

He forced himself to remain calm and asked.

I hope I misheard; this term shouldn't be coming out of the mouth of a Terran native.

"I think she'll probably turn into a steampunk saintess out of shyness."

Okay, you heard right.

Wayne felt a slight headache. Theresa watched all this with a puzzled expression, somewhat unclear about the cryptic conversation between the two.

But soon, Wayne sighed and said:

“I believe it. Theresa, whether you believe it or not, I believe it. I really could be her father in some way.”

Theresa: "?"

Michael smiled happily, like a child who had received approval:

"Your Highness, you must have felt it when you touched me just now, right? My other self and I are actually about the same size on the surface."

Theresa nodded in realization. Indeed, she had exerted the same amount of effort when stabilizing the two consciousnesses. But then she was puzzled. If that was the case, didn't it contradict Michael's account? If the two consciousnesses were of equal size, how could there be such a vast difference between the island and the continent?

"Because my power comes from the reverse flow of Prince Wayne."

Michael answered Theresa's question.

“Since the magical backflow created me, I cannot live without this energy, just like the eggshell that envelops the Liberi cub. Moreover, as I said, I am just an ordinary fragment. After I became independent with the help of Prince Wayne, I was naturally affected as well.”

Theresa's spiritual energy is a soft white light, while Amiya's chimera magic is ominous black lines. Spiritual energy can take different forms depending on the situation, but without exception, it will be tinged with the color of its master.

Vayne was no exception. Since the spiritual energy enveloping Black Michael originated from Vayne, it naturally possessed Vayne's color. And since Black Michael's soul fragments, like chicks in an egg, survived and grew independently by absorbing Vayne's power, and withstood the fusion from White Michael, the color belonging to Vayne within them naturally seeped into them when absorbing this energy.

The relationship wasn't complicated; it was simply cause and effect. With Theresa and Wayne's intelligence, they quickly figured it out.

But immediately afterward, Wayne broke out in a cold sweat.

It is known that Black Michaela acknowledges that White Michaela would not make such a seductive move because she is not of that nature. Yet Black Michaela did indeed do so to Wayne.

Black Michael is tainted by the color of Wayne; in other words, Wayne's thoughts are the sustenance of Black Michael...

So, was it my subconscious that kept thinking about the saintess's evil deeds? Then, following the reverse flow of the magic, it eventually seized the opportunity to blast a fragment from Michael's soul, specifically wrapping and shaping it into this image that super appeals to my sensibilities?

Is lsp actually myself?

This time, it was myself who betrayed me? Who can I even cry to now?

"Your Highness Bruce, is that really what you think?"

A sudden question came from behind. Turning around, he saw Theresa looking at Wayne with a curious gaze.

The teapot on the table, which had been left unattended, boiled.

P.S.: Sorry

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Farewell!

BGM starts

This is purely for fun and laughs. A machete can't be killed by a machete. Even if there are sharks in the fishpond, the true Tidal Sea Spirit Yuan Hua won't die from them! As the saying goes, the Sea King doesn't die from the mouth of a fish!

Chapter 111 Would you like to join the Tower of Babel?

The boiling water spouted a bubbling sound from the kettle spout, startling Wayne, who was highly focused. His heart tightened, and he was about to sigh with relief that his luck wasn't too bad when his phone didn't ring and Theresa didn't suddenly go out.

No sooner had this thought crossed her mind than Theresa's phone rang. Her murderous expression froze for a moment, as if she had just remembered something. She took out her phone, checked the message, and hurriedly walked towards the door.

Halfway there, she suddenly realized what was happening, turned around, grabbed Wayne's hand, and pulled him along without saying a word.

Miss Michael watched Theresa complete this series of actions with some confusion until Theresa tried to pull Wayne away. Then she suddenly realized what was going on and reached out to grab Wayne's other hand as well.

What are you doing?

Theresa frowned.

"What are you doing!" Michael raised an eyebrow and retorted defiantly.

"What are you doing?" Wayne asked, looking bewildered at the two women who were pulling him in two different directions. He sounded a little aggrieved.

"Shut up!" The two, already caught up in their argument, didn't seem to be calming down anytime soon. They probably didn't care much about Wayne's whereabouts anymore; they just wanted to determine who was better.

The angel Sarkaz and the demon Sarkaz have always been at odds, fighting whenever they meet, harboring all sorts of grudges. Wayne used to think this was just an exaggeration, but now it seems to be true.

In terms of status, Theresa is a Demon Lord, but Michael isn't far behind. He's the Saintess of Laterano, the designated next Pope. Poor Urbino is still enduring humiliation and accumulating merits to try and become Pope, unaware that someone with powerful connections has already jumped the queue. Considering the current global power dynamics, Michael's status is far superior to Theresa's. One is the darling of the Laterano Church, even in its weakened state; the other is the Sarkaz Demon Lord, whose mere announcement of his status would trigger a bloodbath and a siege from all nations. A normal person, weighing the pros and cons, would undoubtedly choose the latter.

In terms of appearance, Michael and Theresa are two completely different styles. One has a face that hides a seductive charm beneath her holy attire, while the other's simple clothing cannot conceal her pure heart. If Wayne were to judge solely on appearance, she might even prefer Michael, since she has basically grown up according to her own preferences, making it hard not to like him. But if Wayne had to choose, he would definitely choose Theresa.

You can't judge a book by its cover, right? Theresa's personality, ideals, and millennia-old rich experience and wisdom are all things Wayne lacks and needs to make up for. What's more, there's the countless little things they've accumulated together, which can't be compared to mere attraction.

As a less-than-ideal Aquaman, Wayne made a decisive choice at this moment. He first released Michael's hand, but didn't rush to leave. He gave the order:

“I understand your situation, Miss Michael, but I cannot immediately grant your request to take a little more.”

Michael blinked his big, watery eyes with a wronged expression, a look that was more alluring than the succubus of Schrödinger, whose existence was uncertain. Especially since Wayne knew that Michael would only show this expression to her, she found it even harder to suppress her excitement: "Why?" she asked softly.

"Because of gratitude."

"Wayne said. Michael stared at him blankly for a long time before he came to his senses and sighed.

Indeed, gratitude is essential. But how can we repay the kindness of those who give us life and soul?

After Michael finished speaking, without waiting for Wayne's reply, he continued...

“Unless it’s a life-saving favor, right? But you don’t need me to save you. Even if Laterano decides you’re a traitor, all they’ll do is stop providing you with funds; they can’t control you at all… I can’t repay that, right?”

Wayne nodded.

"I have to repay you forever, right?"

Wayne nodded again.

"You want to get something for free, right?"

Wayne nodded again, but was tapped by Theresa halfway through. Realizing what was happening, he quickly shook his head.

"What do you mean by 'getting something for free'? That's utter nonsense! If we're going to put a time limit on repaying kindness, how about a hundred years?"

Wayne pondered that for an immortal race, a hundred years, while not short, wasn't long either—just about right. But to his surprise, Michael rolled his eyes at him, then, with a sudden inspiration, grabbed his hand and said coyly:

"I have no way to repay your great kindness, so I can only offer myself in gratitude!"

Wayne's lips twitched, and he was about to ask who taught him this trick when he realized what was going on in the next second.

Who else could he learn from? Don't they know who this Black Michael's mentor was?

It is both far away and right before our eyes.

Wayne grew impatient and gave the direct instruction:

“Go back to Laterano. I trust you know what to do.”

Michael nodded listlessly, showing no surprise at Wayne's instructions. After all, given her status, it was unlikely that Michael would stay by Wayne's side indefinitely.

However, it's good to be able to help Princess Wayne. Anyway, her true consciousness is unaware of her existence, so I'll try to subtly influence her later.

“I understand, but Your Highness Wayne, I can’t maintain this advantage for long, unless you…”

Unless I give you more, right?

Wayne nodded helplessly. She was really having a run of bad luck. She had to pay taxes to Theresia, provide a safety net to Surtr, occasionally give Mudrock a certificate of earthly recognition, and sometimes even have to use her divine mandate and imperial power. Now, there was another one to fleece.

Big cats aren't cats, what if I go bald at a young age if I keep pulling them like this?

Wayne gave Theresis a causality buff, but he didn't want it to backfire on him. As long as there's Chairman Theresis, the bald guy is enough!

Finally, Wayne promised that on the day Michael left, he could meet with her alone and let her take advantage of him as much as she wanted. The condition was that she would use it sparingly and help Wayne exonerate himself in front of the Pope at a crucial moment, so that Wayne could continue to fleece Lateran.