Wayne fell into the thicket, deftly caught hold of a tree, and saw a black luxury sedan drive out of the manor’s gate from afar.
The bulletproof sedan was Austin’s, no doubt about it.
"Out late at night, not at home making your wife angry, what are you up to?"
Wayne was curious about Austin’s suspicious behavior and suspected he was secretly meeting with Megan. He silently took note of this and planned to snitch to Hefei the next day.
He’d let it slide for tonight since there was another miserable woman waiting for him.
But when it came to her birthday, and the fact that he had left the High Priest alone afterwards—just thinking about it made Wayne feel sorry for her.
He decided to comfort her before it got too late and while it was still her birthday.
When Wayne arrived at the manor, the twins had already changed into their pajamas, frowning disapprovingly as the pretty boy walked into the High Priest’s bedroom.
Philomena was applying a face mask; she was quite knowledgeable about beauty and skincare and had her own homemade mask recipe.
Love keeps you young, but also anxious. The High Priest spared no effort to appear younger.
"Can’t I come see you if there’s nothing wrong?"
"Why so fierce? That’s not what I meant..."
Wearing a sleeping robe, Philomena joyfully hugged her young boyfriend: "You do have a conscience, and tonight, you’re not allowed to run around."
"Yeah, today is different, it’s my birthday."
"Oh, it really is your birthday?"
Philomena was shocked. She had investigated Wayne’s information and knew January 11th was his birthday, making a special appointment ahead of time. Because Philark had informed her that the illegitimate son’s fake birthday was not real, she hadn’t paid it any mind.
Now she was in a frenzy, not having prepared a single gift.
Will he think I don’t care about him...
While Philomena was panicking, an idea suddenly struck her. She leaned on Wayne’s shoulder and said, "Today is your birthday, very meaningful. I have a gift that I’ve been preparing for you for eighteen years, and there are still two hours until midnight. I’ll give it to you now."
Seductive eyes like silk, and silk that stretches.
What eighteen years, fractional eighteen years?
Wayne couldn’t complain and carried Philomena toward the bathroom: "No rush with this gift; let it mature a bit longer. I like antiques; they gain more value with a sense of history over time."
"Pah, who are you calling an antique!"
"By the way, how long do you plan on waiting before advancing to Legendary Mage?"
"I’m not in a hurry, why are you..."
Philomena stood in the bathroom, enjoying her young boyfriend undressing her. Her intoxicated gaze satisfied her immensely: "You’re very helpful to me, and my Essence of Life still has potential. There’s no rush to advance; let’s solidify the foundation first."
"Still talking about the foundation as a Golden Mage?"
"To higher lifeforms, we’re just starting."
"You have a point. Let me check how substantial your Essence of Life is."
The next day, the bedroom door was knocked upon, and the voice of one of the twins was heard.
Wayne awoke beside Philomena and clearly remembered the voice belonging to Deit, the twin who had lost an arm last time.
There was no mistake.
Vernar knocked on the room door: "High Priest, are you awake?"
Philomena opened her eyes, hugged Wayne with a kiss, let her long hair fall over her shoulders, and her fragrance was intoxicating, lingering so persistently on Wayne’s body that it left an indelible scent of a woman.
"What is it, Vernar?"
Wayne’s forehead was marked with a string of question marks, doubting Philomena had gotten the twins’ identities mixed up.
Because her chest is large, he decided not to argue.
"Mister Wayne’s butler called. There’s an urgent matter, very urgent."
When Vernar finished speaking, she heard something fall inside, pursed her lips, and stepped back to wait aside.
Within three seconds, Wayne was scurrying out, holding his pants and buttoning up his shirt as he headed toward the living room: "Deit, what does Philark want with me?"
I’m not your sister, recognize me correctly for once, even just once.
Vernar sighed resignedly and said: "Mister Wayne, the phone isn’t hung up. The butler’s waiting for you, he didn’t specify what it’s about."
As they spoke, Wayne hurried down the stairs to the first-floor living room.
Vernar closed the bedroom door with a side glance, catching a glimpse of the High Priest stretching without a trace of clothing, her languid posture seductively charming.
The charm of the High Priest was irresistible to both men and women. Vernar couldn’t help but feel her heart race, but the thought of the pretty boy just now made her pout discontentedly.
A beauty like that wasted on a pretty boy; Vernar deeply felt it was undeserved for the High Priest.
"Okay, I got it. I’ll head to Lando Manor right away."
Wayne put down the phone, entered the basement, and went down the sewer, dispersing the faint Death essence around him, erasing all the woman’s scent from his body.
Austin had been to the Magic Department for a meeting last night and afterwards went to investigate the Queen’s vacation manor first-hand. Having stayed up all night, he didn’t find Wayne at home in the morning and called Wayne Manor directly.
Upon hearing Wayne was not at Lando Manor and no one was home, Philark immediately said that Wayne was at home and would rush to Lando Manor as quickly as possible.
After Wayne emerged from the sewer through the underground passage to verify his identity, he arrived at his villa. Halfway there, he transformed into the Death Knight and used a teleportation gate to travel, perfectly managing his time.
In the study, Austin glanced at his watch, waiting until the very last second of the countdown before Wayne showed up.
Frowning, he said, "With so many friends in your place last night, why bother coming home?"
"Like I said, they’re just friends, just happen to be female, don’t always look at me with those colored glasses." Wayne stood his ground, he might not care about his reputation, but Chris, Villy, and Mona were good girls, and he wouldn’t allow Austin to spout nonsense.