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

Wayne waved his phone, showing the text message from Jingzhe, which contained only a short sentence:

“I need Joseph Pulitzer’s help.”

“It’s about number four, Cerf Pulitzer,” Wayne said.

Chapter 172 The Iron-Blooded Leader Celt

Victoria, Dublin, ? ? ?

"How are the preparations going?"

"Everything is ready, Your Highness."

Upon hearing the brown-haired man's address, Celtic frowned slightly and shook his head, saying:

"Don't call me that, Mandela. You should call me 'Leader'."

Mandela's shoulders trembled, as if he had done something terribly wrong, and he slapped himself hard, making Celt's scalp tingle.

"I'm sorry, [Leader], my words reminded you of those hypocritical Aslan nobles. This is my fault! Please allow Mandela to commit suicide as atonement!"

Celt, suppressing goosebumps, turned to look at Felin, who was kneeling on one knee, practically burying her head in her barely developed chest. Her expression shifted repeatedly; she wanted to offer comfort, but felt that doing so would be no different from dealing with the annoying Prince Aslan she had encountered before. So, she could only maintain a stern face, feigning indifference, and rebuke him:

"What nonsense are you spouting, Mandela? Even if you're just a worthless life, you still have the mission I just gave you. If you die so easily, are you trying to delay the Deep Pool's grand plan, or do you think my orders were just a joke? Did I save you in the first place just so you could die like this?"

Mandela's face paled. The thoughts of committing suicide to atone for her sins that had been swirling in her mind vanished instantly, leaving only endless regret. She shook her head frantically, denying it:

"No, no, no, Your Highness... Bah, Leader, your orders are of course more important than Mandela's life. I just don't want... Mandela guarantees to complete the mission! You don't need to worry about Little Hill County anymore!"

Kyle nodded, then reached out and poked the energy-efficient reeds standing nearby, reminding them:

“Mandra, take Raphsini with you. Remember our purpose, and don’t let your desire for revenge disrupt Deeppool’s plans.”

Celtic paused, seemingly feeling that this wasn't safe enough, and then clarified, adding:

"Most of those Victorian nobles are incompetent and hold their positions without contributing anything, but undeniably, there are a small number of adversaries among them who warrant our attention. Little Hill is the first city we carefully selected to announce the return of Deeppool. Remember, it's not that you can't kill them, but don't kill too many. Especially the nobles; the goal isn't to wipe them out, but to instill fear in them! Only when the Victorian nobles are in disarray will Victoria itself fall into chaos, which will then drag Londinium into chaos, ultimately affecting our final enemy!"

"Brother?" Upon hearing the word "ultimate enemy," Reed seemed to have just woken up and turned to look at Celt. "Brother?"

The eyes beneath the Celtic mask rolled back, as if he wanted to let out a long sigh.

As I said before, that annoying Athrun Wayne must have bewitched Raphsini, making her, who is usually very obedient and a good stand-in, always become wary whenever Wayne is involved, and sometimes even adopt a non-violent non-cooperative attitude.

In private, she could show concern for her younger sister, calmly reason with her, and explain the thousand-year-old feud between Draco and Aslan. But now there were outsiders in front of her.

Celtic had always cultivated an image of a cold-blooded, ruthless, and iron-fisted leader in front of the Deeppool members. To achieve her goals, she was even willing to launch a direct raid on a count's territory, disregarding casualties. If she were to let Raphsini have her way and comfort her at a time like this, wouldn't her image crumble?

Even though he was reluctant to scold his sister, Celtic still had to furrow his brow and rebuke her in an angry tone:

“He’s not your brother! They are Aslan, and you are Draco. If you don’t understand this, then you’re only fit to be my substitute for the rest of your life!”

Hey sis, you're going to be Queen Victoria with me someday. Why are you always thinking about that stinky lion? Even if that stinky lion is gone, you still have me, your older sister.

At worst, we can discuss it privately. I promise you, once I'm in Lontinem, I'll spare Wayne's life and give him to you. Anyway, you'll probably get bored after a few days.

Celtic's eyes were filled with complex emotions, but the mask on his face was so obstructive that Reed couldn't read her sister's thoughts at all. It turns out that telepathy isn't something every pair of sisters can achieve.

Reed only knew that she had been scolded for no reason. She glanced at Celt with disappointment and grievance, then turned her head away and fell silent again.

You insult me, I'm ignoring you. I'm going to go back to my computer; it's energy-saving and environmentally friendly.

Anyway, there's no point in you talking to that annoying cat. Your brother is incredibly capable. He knows things you don't, and he can accomplish things you can't. You think Deeppool can bring down the whole of Victoria? Dream on!

If your brother arrests you as a bandit, you might have to rely on me to plead for your life. If that doesn't work, I might have to help you save face.

But to be honest, we're sisters, so take my advice: becoming Queen Victoria isn't just about rebellion. Use your brains, think outside the box, and maybe get a makeover. My brother hasn't seen me in so long, and we look so alike, with only the slightest difference. Maybe he'll mistake me for someone else! This is called a roundabout way to achieve your goal!

But I definitely won't give you my brother; it'll only happen once or twice at most. You can't keep doing this indirectly forever, right?

Celtic was completely unaware that his dear sister Raphsini was already thinking about how to explain things to Wayne, and was currently making serious work arrangements.

Mandela disliked Raphsini; in her view, even if the leader's sister wasn't as wise and great as him, she should at least have ambition. But Reed was not only taciturn and quiet, but also remarkably kind to the Victorians. She even repeatedly defied the leader, trying to persuade him to abandon the Deep Pool plan.

How can this be allowed? How can you manage a deep pool with a sister like that?

The leader was absolutely right. Someone like Raphsini isn't even fit to be a stand-in; she's just an unsuitable tool! If it weren't for her role in helping the leader evade assassination attempts and avoid the gaze of Victoria's annoying unicorns, Mandra would have volunteered to get rid of this pesky sister for the leader.

Upon hearing that Rafishini would be taken on this mission, Mandela's face fell. Bringing Rafishini along would not only hinder her mission but would also create numerous problems. However, the leader's orders were absolute, and Mandela dared not voice any objections. Deeppool needed to establish authority, to cultivate an image as "Victorian liberators" and "oppressors' nemesis," and the Celts couldn't appear too early to avoid being targeted. Therefore, bringing Rafishini along as a backup was the only option.

Mandela glared at Reed reluctantly. Reed didn't care at all, not even glancing at her. She pouted, turned her head towards the window, her eyes listless, and seemed lost in thought.

Mandela was even angrier. But with the Celtic leader still present, she couldn't lash out. She could only purse her lips, force herself not to think about the reeds, and bow her head to the Celts in obedience.

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, you can go out now. Call Ahmoni in from outside the door for me."

“Akhmoni?” Mandela bit her lip, looking as if she wanted to curse him out loud. “Leader, Ahmoni is a villain. Please allow me to accompany you…”

“I asked you to call Ahmoni in, and also, Mandela,” Celt wanted to warn Mandela to be nicer to her colleagues, but thinking that saying such things might damage her image, he could only offer a roundabout reminder, “Watch your attitude. Being so harsh on your colleagues and speaking ill of them behind their backs makes me doubt your loyalty to Deeppool.”

Mandela opened his mouth, clenched his fists, lowered his head pitifully, felt a lump in his throat, and answered with a forced smile, "Yes, you are right to teach me a lesson."

She stood up unsteadily, looking like a sick cat. She walked outside and saw her mortal enemy, whose eyes looked ridiculous even when he wasn't smiling. She couldn't even bring herself to say anything sarcastic. She sniffed dejectedly and said, "The leader wants to see you. Come in."

"Huh?" Ahmoni was stunned and exclaimed without realizing it.

"Huh?" Mandela ignored her, glared at her, and walked away on her own.

"Is...nothing...right? Mandela?" Ahmoni stared blankly at Mandela's retreating figure as he disappeared into the camp at the deep pool, completely bewildered. "Is the child alright?"

She muttered to herself, went into the tent, greeted Celt and Reed, and asked:

"Leader, what happened to Mandela?"

"What? What happened?" Celtic blinked, asking somewhat guiltily.

"When she saw me today, she didn't even try to banter with me. She looked like she'd lost her soul, as listless as a salted fish with too much salt," Ahmoni described, then asked with some concern, "Did the leader say anything to her? I don't want to see that stupid cat jump off a building or cut her wrists. If I can't amuse her, half the fun in my life will be gone."

"Uh... she only got scolded by me twice." Celtic's lips twitched, and he almost couldn't keep his expression in check.

Ahmoni nodded knowingly, then shook her head and sighed, "You know how that stupid cat treats you. You should be nicer to her. Pat her head often, scratch her chin, pat her back every three days, brush her fur every five days, and give her a bath every now and then..."

"Watch your words! That's your colleague, not a cat!"

"Pfft!"

Celt pointed to the reeds beside him and said angrily:

"Akhmoni, look what you've said! Even Lavshini couldn't help but laugh!"

"It was my fault, Leader," Ahmoni apologized with utmost sincerity.

Celt felt that with each passing day he faced his powerful and ruthless subordinates, his aloof and iron-blooded persona was teetering on the edge of a tightrope, with the possibility of ending up in Bengbu at any moment.

“Let’s talk business. You’ll go with Mandela to Little Hills. I have a feeling something might happen to her if she goes alone.”

Ahmon hesitated for a moment, then said sincerely, "Aren't you afraid that if I go with her, the accident will be even more likely?"

Chapter 173 Take this blow from the ancestors of the Celestial Empire!

"Aren't you afraid that if I go with her, there will be an even greater accident?"

Hearing Ahmoni's heartfelt question, Celtic really wanted to curse.

"Are you even speaking human language?"

But the words stuck in her throat. Given how much these two bickered, it wouldn't be surprising if they started fighting anytime without someone keeping them in check. And who in the entire deep pool could possibly keep them in check?

First, let's rule out Lafshini; it seems like that leaves only me.

"Ugh...."

Finally, he couldn't help but sigh wearily. Celtic felt that sooner or later, these incompetent subordinates would shake his resolve to overthrow Aslan. With this bunch of clowns, could I really defeat Wayne?

Should we compare our combat strength? I have Mandra under my command, while Wayne has Unicorns, a Steam-Armored Legion, and the Royal Army...

Forget it, let's not compete anymore.

What's that saying again? Those who believe in miracles are themselves as remarkable as miracles! Don't you think so, Lavshini?

Celt turned to look at Reed, only to find her mouth slightly open in surprise, her gaze fixed on the window. Celt raised an eyebrow, somewhat puzzled, and went to the window, following Reed's gaze as she looked out.

There was a huge electronic display screen there.

While Dublin may not be as powerful as Londinium, it was still the center of the Northern Kingdom's rule before the King's usurpation. Its economic development was among the best in Victoria, and it was a leading modern metropolis in the North. The display screen was said to have been built by the King after his coronation to fulfill his promises to the Northern cities that had supported him in the Wars of the Roses. It directly connected to the most prosperous areas of Londinium, allowing him to receive royal orders and messages simultaneously with Londinium.

At that moment, the electronic display screen was showing a breaking news story (break new!).

[Londinim Morning Post Special Correspondent Scamander Fred brings you live coverage: After a long hiatus, the king returns! The legend of Terra's journalism, the embodiment of fairness and justice—Mr. Joseph Pulitzer's latest report—"Longmen, Yan Kingdom, the Rise and Fall of City-States and Great Powers"—is released exclusively across the land! Unveiling the mysterious ancient empire—the Great Yan Kingdom—and the emerging mobile city of Longmen, the untold stories behind their intertwined glories!]

The headline of the report was probably influenced by the first Pulitzer Prize-winning report—now generally referred to as "The Pope's Seven Deadly Sins," but its full title is "Shameless: What the Holy Lateran Church Did Behind the Scenes..." The title is clearly far beyond what is necessary, giving it a cheap feel, as if you could just add quotation marks and use a paragraph of the article as a title.

But for all of Terra, this was undoubtedly the most valuable report, for no other reason than the name of its author—Joseph Pulitzer. The renowned Pulitzer journalist!

"Hu-hu-"

Ahmoni noticed a blush creeping onto Celt's face, and his breathing becoming heavy. Thinking something was wrong with her leader, she was about to step forward to express her loyalty and offer a few words of concern when Celt suddenly turned around, his terrifying desire, even hidden by his mask, landing squarely on Ahmoni.

"Ahmoni, hurry!" Celt shouted, "Go buy one!"

"what?"

"Buy a copy of the report! You won't regret it!"

"But it's just a newspaper. I remember the Lentinium Morning Post has an official website, where you can subscribe to a quarterly e-paper for ten yuan..."

"Hehe." Celtic laughed confidently, "You can try it, see if the website you mentioned can still be accessed."

Ahmoni's face was filled with surprise. What did Celt mean by this? Was it really necessary?

It's just a news report. Even if it's by the famous Joseph Pulitzer, it shouldn't be enough to make a website inaccessible, right?

She pulled out her phone, casually opened the website, and the loading speed of the official website was a bit slow, probably due to a poor network connection. She watched the website page gradually refresh and then showed it to Celtic:

“Look, leader.”

Celtic remained calm and gestured to her, "Would you like to click on the news?"

Ahmoni lowered her head and tapped on the news.

No response. The loading symbol starts spinning.

"Oh, the internet speed is a bit slow."