The phone call ended, and Ethan looked at the setting sun, took a deep breath, and put on his mask.
In fact, he was a bit worried about Lindong. After all, his teacher always seemed like the type who would take action rather than talk. If you provoked her, she wouldn’t yell at you, but before you realized it, she would have already shot an ice arrow at you.
This was the experience he had summarized from observing the interactions between Lindong and Rowena.
Rowena was the wittiest girl he had ever seen, but she was repeatedly captured by Lindong’s ice arrows. Perhaps this was a reflection of his teacher’s wisdom—never engaging with others in fields they excel at.
Still, Ethan believed human emotions were interconnected.
He began to summarize and organize the classic trash-talking phrases he had read, and if his teacher wasn’t skilled at delivering harsh words at the time, he would step in with an assist! Updates are released by NoveI-Fire.ɴet
If he could use trash talk to provoke his teacher, then perhaps even someone as cool as Lindong would show off her ability to talk smack in a fit of rage.
"Mr. Heisenberg, are you okay?"
When Ethan stepped out, Saomao asked worriedly, "Did Flor say something to you?"
Why, in just a few hours, Ethan’s aura seemed filled with aggression.
She had never seen Ethan so brimming with sharpness before, as if he might say, "Let this miserable world come to an end" at any moment.
This wasn’t more belligerent than the followers of Kaisaros, was it?
"No, it’s nothing to do with him."
Ethan shook his head, "I’m just brewing emotions."
He was rehearsing in his mind the conversation he would soon have with Lindong, but in reality, although he had a strong theoretical foundation in trash talk, he wasn’t very good at face-to-face battles. In the past, he rarely argued online; he usually preferred to watch unknown two netizens bicker over a trivial matter for hundreds of comments, like mortal enemies who couldn’t share the same sky.
What would be the best opening move?
Come to think of it, while Rowena always complained about Lindong’s bad temper and love for hissing, Lindong had never lost her temper in front of him.
This touched upon Ethan’s knowledge blind spot, leaving him unable to think of an opening move that would provoke Lindong into wanting to trash talk him.
He was lost in his own world all the way, while the outside world was bustling. There were still a few hours before the banquet began, yet the residents of the undercity had already gathered here, and even the air seemed to be filled with a bloodthirsty atmosphere.
Ethan felt like he heard discussions such as "It’s rare to witness a battle of the strong in person, it’d be worth it even if I die."
This gave Ethan strength, making the bloodthirsty spirit seem to return to his body.
And perhaps by fate, as he arrived at the banquet site, a familiar figure was also approaching from a distance.
A purple evening dress, silver-white hair finely braided, and iconic red eyes filled with aloofness that pushed people away.
Beautiful, powerful, yet unreachable.
With each step Lindong took, the air grew colder. Even though people hugged themselves, shivering, those who were staring straight ahead couldn’t bear to look away.
The distance decreased rapidly; Ethan could already smell the familiar fruity scent on Lindong.
At this moment, they had undoubtedly become the center of attention in the eyes of the residents.
Encouraged by the bloodthirsty audience, Ethan recalled his past self and became one of them.
Now, he wanted to provoke a dispute on behalf of the bloodthirsty audience.
He clenched his fists tightly.
However, before he could launch an attack, Lindong stepped forward and, before he could utter a sound, uncovered the lower part of his mask.
What followed was a passionate kiss.
Ethan could feel the bloodthirsty audience growing more excited, even shouting imaginatively, "That’s the stuff! That’s what I came to see!" or "That woman made him kneel..."
Yet all the attacks Ethan had prepared were thrown into disarray by Lindong, his aura crumbling completely.
Thousands of words caught in his throat.
Those red pupils were filled with arrogance, like a victorious general.
"Isn’t this what you said—" Lindong’s tone was even tinged with provocation, "trading verbal jabs?"