Miss Planeswalker, are you free for romance?

What do you mean?

"Well... you can give it a try. Mention it to someone who is not related to it, and give it a try..." Rabbit fiddled with his long nails, and the instigation in his words was full of danger: "Not long ago, an official ritualist undercover disappeared in this way..."

"All the bones in his body have turned into sticky rice..." The woman moved her fingers and pointed at her rabbit mask with a smile: "The 'mask' of the 'masquerade' is cursed. There are some 'conceptual' things that mortals like you cannot feel."

Kasumigaoka Utaha crossed her legs and thought. "So... once you enter, you can't leave, and you can't tell anyone who's not a member of the party about anything?"

The rabbit hummed twice in noncommittal.

"Then I am in even more danger now that you have taken away the 'ritual object'. Isn't it?" Kasumigaoka Utaha stared at her with burning eyes: "I don't know what power the so-called 'mystery' gives to humans, and how powerful the ability is after entering the level. But what I am still clear about is," she stamped her feet: "We are enemies of the 'justice' of this society, right?"

"I can't be promoted, I can't protect myself, how long can I survive in this increasingly dangerous world? "Ritual Object"... I give this thing to you, what if Huojian Society also needs it?"

Miss Rabbit looked at her admiringly, but her words remained unchanged. "That's your business, the new Peach Heart."

"That's your business. First, you have to consider whether you can survive, and second, how well you live, right?" Rabbit tilted his head, and the hideous blood stains on the mask looked even more terrifying in the gloomy words: "Remember what I said just now? What does 'best' mean... you can understand it?"

Of course, death threats?

Miss Rabbit ignored Kasumigaoka who was still thinking and slowly took out a piece of paper from her bag.

"What you want."

After Kasumigaoka Utaha took it, she said, "After receiving the ritual object, please hand it over to me happily. Um... you will probably wait about a month?"

"Use this month to think carefully about the rest of your life. Even though you're living like a wild dog, at least... you're still alive, right?"

"Mortals should not dream of powers that do not belong to them."

The woman said this lightly and walked out through the door in her high heels.

The girl was left sitting quietly on the sofa.

Chapter40 London Exhibition

The plane line landed at London Heathrow Airport, and the bold letters of LHR marked the beginning of a new journey for everyone who set foot on this land.

Luxury cars, gloomy weather and half-open shops; street performances in front of buildings or at the Millennium Bridge, black men with dreadlocks taking turns playing bass and shaking their shoulders, a blonde girl sitting on a cajon with her sleeves rolled up, and a fat man in a detective hat holding a saxophone.

The towering high-rise buildings echo the retro churches. Outside the mottled but unrenovated walls, waves of tourists come in.

This country, which has always shown its arrogance to the world, has not changed its demeanor today. Instead, it fanned the back of its long windbreaker and pouted its lips, with that low, rigid and annoying tone that is so condescending.

'Look, I'm still the same.'

If the city had a language, it would certainly say this to the dwarfs walking around on its body.

Ying Lili also wanted to say something, but unfortunately no one listened.

Numerous picture frames contained the "painstaking works" of amateur enthusiasts, but it was obvious that the organizers did not take them seriously. In keeping with the city's usual attitude, these "inferior" works were hung in the corridor.

By the way, the corridor is the passage leading to the art exhibition.

That is, they are not yet qualified to enter the official place.

"Asshole... Should I thank that damn woman..." Ms. Eriri, who was mumbling, was still radiant today. Her long hair was combed several times with fine teeth, and her ponytail was carefully tied with a light gray hairband. She wore a casual dress of the same color - not too formal, but beautiful and generous.

The only thing that made the girl happy was that most of the people passing by the exhibition focused their attention on the paintings rather than on her.

"Well, it's a good thing that Eriri drew Tsukisa, otherwise no one would watch it." Sayuri, who was wearing a purple dress, pulled her daughter, not realizing how discouraging her words were: "Rather than saying the painting is good, it's better to say that Tsukisa is beautiful."

Mori Yuesha in the painting is indeed beautiful.

——The whole painting is black with a black base: in a dark room, in front of a quaint round table.

The girl in the elegant lace dress rests her chin on her hand, the only light source coming from the half candle on the silver candlestick. The girl with a faint smile in the darkness stares blankly at the other side of the painting, leaving endless secrets for the audience to discover.

What was she thinking?

Is it a lover, or a delicious dessert for dinner?

The lips are the only bright color in the whole picture: the bright red color just brightens up this somewhat gloomy work.

The girl in the painting seems to be between death and life, surviving in a dead way.

"A lot of people have been talking about the girl in the painting. Eriri has had a great success this time!" Only her mother accompanied her to the exhibition. Her father was caught up in social events as soon as he got off the plane, so he didn't have time to get away to accompany her to the exhibition today.

"He... forget about him. Dad does have some troublesome relationships." When talking about her husband, Sayuri Sawamura seemed to realize something and lightly touched on the topic, immediately avoiding it: "But how did Eriri come up with this one?"

Eriri has many paintings that could be used for exhibition, but as to why I chose this one... it's because of Mori Tsukisa.

When I visited her studio and admired her genius creations...

'This one is amazing. If I could only draw something like this…'

There was a short-haired girl hidden in the painting. Her profile was vague, her arms were holding the railing, and she was laughing at the moon in the sky. At that time, Eriri didn't know who she was - although the creations of art students were all based on life, fruits, plaster statues, portraits, etc....

Until she met Aoi Tojo, until she hid behind a tree in the garden and heard the conversation between her and Mori Yuesa.

So on impulse, Eriri decided to move this secretly painted work of someone in a daze to London for an exhibition.

"Because it's rare." Eriri curled her lips: "It's rare to be quiet. You don't know how difficult it is to get Mori Yuesha to sit at the table and be a model..."

It won't be harder than falling in love with someone. Sayuri looked down at her daughter, a little worried.

It was fine before, when she changed from Renye to Mori Yuesha. As an open-minded mother, I not only understand but also feel a little happy when I find that my daughter has started to change her target. After all, Mori Yuesha's appearance, figure, and personality (due to the lack of comprehensive understanding, it caused misunderstanding) are all the best that women have ever seen. Having such a daughter-in-law...

Oh, it makes me happy just thinking about it.

Sayuri realized that given Mori Yuesa's conditions, her daughter might have many competitors, but... no matter how expensive and rare the gems are, it is better than choosing a small stone that can be found everywhere on the roadside.

Tomoya Aki: I’m buying games, don’t cue me.

Everything was going on normally, and my daughter would often complain, such as: "Ahhhh I want to kill that idiot ball girl!" For example: "I want to curse Mori Yuesa to shrink to the same size as me!" For example: "My wife Yuno is so annoying, what on earth does she do every day!"

They are all very happy little complaints.

Sometimes when I pass by late at night, I can see the little golden retriever rolling around on the bed with the quilt in his arms through the crack of the door. Not to mention the expression on his face, he also makes a weird "hehehe" laugh...

Well, it’s also a quick and happy little action.

Until recently.

As if she had a sudden enlightenment, Eriri rarely mentioned Mori Tsukisa. During the holidays, she would bring her painting supplies to her house and stay for several days. When she chatted with her, she would say "Tsukisa is the same" or "Tsukisa doesn't like it" every three sentences.

All gone.

The daughter seemed to understand something and treated the girl as her close and good friend. This was her answer when Sayuri asked tentatively.

"Ah, that. I have some doubts in my heart." Eriri said this confidently, with her legs crossed and her blonde hair sticking up like weeds: "Mom, don't ask me, I have found the answer. Because we are so close, it is a deep, lifelong friendship."

Is this the answer you found?

After listening to her daughter's true speech, Sayuri Sawamura looked around the house for the bear under her husband's questioning eyes - she always felt that there might be a black bear hiding in the closet or under the coffee table, which would jump out and slap Eriri on the head when she wasn't paying attention.

My wife Yuno:?

You feel that you are friends with her, and I think I feel the same way about your father. So, we are a family of friendship, hahaha…

I was really blind. When I was pregnant, did I eat some food that lowered my intelligence? If life is a game, Sayuri would have to delete her "daughter account" and start over.

If you build a new one, first maximize its intelligence, then its appearance and body.

Even if you charge money, you have to max it out.

Chapter41 Two ladies at the exhibition

At every hour, a few visitors or curious tourists walked through the corridor.

Eriri pretended to admire the other paintings while wandering around them - but her eyes were fixed on her own masterpiece, trying to find expressions of appreciation and love on the faces of the visitors. Sayuri had already left her daughter behind and ran to the official exhibition hall.

"I've seen Eriri's paintings so many times. The Young National Treasure is the highlight today, so I'll go take a look, just take a look—"

This is as nonsense as Mori Yuesha saying 'I'll just take one bite, just a small bite'.

“I like the women in your paintings.”

The sudden sound startled her.

When I came to my senses, I found a woman standing next to me.

The long straight blue-purple hair almost reached her shoulders. She smiled gently like a Yamato Nadeshiko and placed her hands on her abdomen. Seeing Eriri staring at her in a daze, the woman took two steps back, leaned forward and spoke in Japanese: "Did I scare you?"

"I'm sorry, I noticed your painting. It's beautiful, it should be in the official exhibition hall."

A guy with an explosive body.

Ying Lili pursed her lips, her eyes wandering: "Um... this painting is not my work."

"Yes, I know." The woman smiled warmly, and her brief expressions were particularly gentle: "Because your eyes have been fixed on the third picture on the right, that is your work, right?"

Eriri: ...

"Don't be shy. Being able to draw such a masterpiece, but the organizers leaving you in the 'amateur category' because of narrow-minded prejudice is no less than losing gold for a handful of sand."

Everyone likes to hear nice words, and Miss Eriri, who is suffering from exhibition syndrome, likes to hear them even more. She scratched her face and began to feel embarrassed: "It's just, it's just an ordinary work... Do you, do you really like it?"

"Of course. Very delicate emotions are mixed in the paint. I don't think you need to understand art - as long as you have a little observation, anyone who loves beauty can feel the emotions that the painter secretly put in it." When the woman raised the corners of her mouth, it seemed as if a reviving warm breeze was blowing towards her, and the kitten that had just woken up was surrounded by the wind, arched its butt, stretched out its rotor and yawned.

"Thank you... for your evaluation." Eriri clutched the hem of her skirt and whispered, "Well, I don't even know your name. That's so rude."

"But I know yours." The woman winked mischievously. "I saw it in the signature, right? Miss Eriri?" She held out her hand. "I'm Busujima Saeko."

Busujima…Saeko?

What a familiar surname. Where have I heard it before?

"Ms. Eriri?"

Coming back to her senses, the girl quickly reached out her hand and shook it - the soft and slender palm was a circle larger than hers, and it felt like... there were thick calluses?

Rough and powerful.

"That's all. I wish you can get more praise today. That's what this painting deserves." Busujima Saeko put her fingers in front of her lips and smiled, bowed to Eriri, then turned and left.

'Strange woman...'

She's incredibly gentle, and she doesn't look much older than me, right?

The bright lights were absorbed by the red carpet, and as the crowd began to grow, the discussion became weaker. Everyone was concentrating on appreciating the works of different styles on the corridor, and most of those who stopped in front of Eriri's paintings were men.

This made the blonde girl a little unhappy: "Like, like... superficial like, that woman doesn't need such superficial like. Learn more about the beauty of painting techniques and color collision..."

People around: Wow, what a beautiful girl.

…In general, the result is pretty good. At least in the amateur category, Eriri's work is almost the most watched.

By the way, compared with other paintings, Eriri's level can be considered top-notch. If you exclude those painters who dress in "strange" clothes and stand in front of their paintings to attract customers to take pictures.

"Appropriate publicity and marketing are also part of art." The low and hoarse tone was raised, and Ying Lili turned her head. This was the second viewer who spoke to her today.

The visitor put her hands in her pockets and glanced at the wall without paying attention. She was wearing a light white silk dress, with bright golden ribbons extending from her proud chest to her feet. She was wearing ivory pointed high heels, and under her dark brown hair, her golden round earrings sparkled.

A typical British beauty, a dignified and proud noble lady.

"I don't think those lies made up of fancy words are art." Eriri curled her lips. She would never post the photos she took on social networks and add something like "Oh, the world's largest art exhibition is really not ordinary. Only a few hundred people appreciate my paintings." Even though she was rolling her eyes happily, she still had to pretend that nothing happened.

The woman observed Eriri's outfit and smiled, "Ms. Spencer, you should be more generous. Perhaps... you should go to the exhibition hall inside."

Spencer?

Eriri was surprised. She remembered that in order to distinguish the identity of "Kashiwagi Eri", she deliberately signed her real name - but it was just Eriri.

"I know your father. Many years ago, my father and your father..." The woman thought for a moment and gestured: "Maybe they were 'friends'? Although there was a big age difference. So..."

When it comes to her father, Eriri is not as nice as she was to Busujima Saeko. She is so fed up with these nobles who are self-righteous but actually stupid and should have disappeared into history long ago.

What's more, she is older than me.

That's even more annoying.

"Oh, really? Miss 'noble'? What's your name?" Eriri nodded pretentiously, looking at the woman with a proud bust, her words were extremely aggressive.

"You can call me Laura. Lara Croft, my father is Henshingly Croft. If you mention it to your father, I think he should remember it." Laura ignored the little girl's provocation and pointed at her painting with a smile: "It's beautiful. I want to know her name. Whose little princess is she?"

For some reason, Eriri suddenly felt that the Miss Laura in front of her was somewhat similar to Mori Yuesa: not in terms of figure, but in the strange sense of danger and aggressiveness that they both exuded.