Chapter 247 — I heard Al say you’re in some trouble
When Hill arrived at Famagusta, it had been raining for several days. It was gloomy and wet outside these days, and it felt as if the whole world was soaked in rain. Hill got down from the carriage and looked at the heavy sky in the rain, feeling the urge to sleep.
The Dark Church put on a very formal stance to welcome the Demon King, and Hill was greeted with force.
Monroe knelt down in the rain and kissed the back of Hill’s hand, and the five emissaries of the Dark Church behind him also knelt down and bowed their heads.
Hill looked at Monroe in the rain, grabbed his wrist with his backhand, pulled him straight up, pinched his chin, and kissed him.
In front of the crowd.
Monroe’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.
As for the consequences of this, Hill is not interested, he did it anyway.
The corners of Hill’s lips raised, “Concentrate,” he said in a low voice. Monroe’s other hand was holding the Pope’s scepter. He covered the back of his hand with his fingers, and he held it so hard that it bruised. The rain hit the backs of their overlapping hands, and this picture appeared seductive and intense.
The blazing heat that rises up with the fluctuations of the magical turbulence, the aftermath of the collision of such high-ranking demons makes the surrounding people unable to open their eyes.
Of course they didn’t dare to look up.
After the kiss, Hill let go of Monroe. Monroe was a beat slower in letting go of Hill.
Then Hill smiled faintly at him: “I am very satisfied with this welcome.”
“It is a great honor to satisfy you,” Monroe said.
“Well, isn’t it time to say ‘please come and give us instructions’?” Hill teased, then walked down the hall, “Well, the process is almost done.”
After entering the other hall, Hill nestled directly into the sofa over there. When passing through the interior of the church, he did not use magic to protect himself from the rain, and deliberately let himself get wet. He put his feet on the table, seemingly without the slightest thought of packing his coat. He himself was looking at his fingers and said without looking up, “It’s been a while, Monroe.”
“It has indeed been a while, Hill,” Monroe said as he closed the door behind him and turned his back on Hill.
Hill looked left and right and took a rose from the vase over there and threw it at Monroe’s back, “I think we’re starting this conversation on a bit of a heartbreaking note.”
“Is that so?”
The rose turned into a dart when it flew halfway, and Monroe turned around and stretched out his fingers to clamp the dart.
“Yeah.” Hill watched as Monroe’s finger touched the dart and the dart turned into a rose again. The petals scattered, and the cool rose fragrance rushed to his face. “It’s obvious that we’re lovers,” Hill said, “but we’re always saying ‘it’s been a long time’.”
“Actually, although we said ‘it’s been a long time’, we actually met last month. It’s better than other couples who are separated from each other.” Monroe opened his five fingers to gather the scattered petals in one place with magic, those petals were wrapped in a light blue light and reverted to the original form of the rose.
“Ah, the limits of the times.” Hill gazed at the rose and said, “It is also true that for some lovers in this era, often a turn is an eternal goodbye.”
“That’s true.” Monroe walked over to the vase and reinserted the rose that had come back from the dead, “You always seem to have ‘this era’ on your lips.”
“Well, because my mouth is longer and has more protruding length, so I feel like hanging something, and hanging an era on my mouth looks imposing,” Hill said.
Monroe: “…I say you, at least pay attention to your image.”
“I thought I said something very humorous.” Hill said angrily, “And after all, we are lovers, so I think you should forgive my dirty side. Can’t we be honest with each other?”
“…you’re always so ingenious with your words,” Monroe said.
Hill was overjoyed and was deeply entertained by Monroe.
After the entertainment, Hill got up and walked to the closet with his back to Monroe and took off his wet coat. Monroe went to Hill to serve him and put on his clothes one by one. Monroe’s gaze was very calm and could not see the desire in it.
Hill was drinking a cup of iced coffee in his left hand, while observing Monroe’s face and expression up close. When Monroe bent down to adjust his belt, Hill finally couldn’t contain his emotions, grabbed Monroe’s collar and kissed it.
The kiss was much deeper and more intense than the one outside, his warm fingers clasping his cold neck, pleasure fading away from the façade of warmth, leaving only a deeper desire and plunder.
After about a few minutes, Hill let go of Monroe, catching the intense emotion in Monroe’s eyes with satisfaction. But soon Monroe restrained himself, and he lowered his head and continued to help Hill adjust his belt.
Such a Monroe is really tempting. Hill thought.
He drained his cup of coffee and then crunched the ice cubes inside.
The sound was clear in the silence of the room.
Hill saw the Monroe Adam’s apple move a little.
Hill swallowed the chewed ice cubes, so his Adam’s apple also moved.
Monroe took a deep breath, “I’m afraid I’m going to be rude, my Lord.”
The next second, he kissed up.
The tongue, which had been almost paralyzed by the ice, and the bitter mellowness of the coffee mixed with the deep kiss.
Outside, the rain was low, and inside, desire spread.
——read at awanderingpotato.com
Next, Hill and Monroe had lunch together, did some of the things couples are supposed to do together, took a walk, and talked a little dirty. It was a bit of a routine, but because there was affection, even the ‘routine’ was quite fun.
A sudden downpour in the evening forced Hill and Monroe to return to their rooms.
The air was quite oppressive when the storm was approaching, and it was the most humid and stifling time of the day. The sky was covered with thick dark clouds, thunder rolled, and the rain came down suddenly and without warning. – But everything can be called a sign too.
“It seems to rain a lot in Famagusta,” Hill said.
“Well, especially this time of year,” Monroe replied.
The leaves rustled as the pouring rain pounded down directly and frantically on the ground. The sound of the rain was near a roar. The wind was also becoming more intense, as if the string on the bow was trembling. Hill looked at the scenery outside in a trance.
“I heard Al say you’re in some trouble,” Monroe said.
“There are two things I don’t understand.” Hill turned and leaned against the windowsill, his figure blocking the light behind him, so the light in the room was instantly extinguished by half, and the shadow of the Demon King covered the Dark Pope. “First, he shouldn’t like you too much to initiate talking to you about this.”
“His expression told me,” Monroe said.
“Oh, it looks like he cosplayed a wave of Liu Mintao.” Hill said, “Well… I think your expression at the moment is ‘I don’t understand what you’re saying but I don’t really want to know’.”
Monroe coughed and pulled the subject away: “What about the second thing you don’t understand?”
“The second thing is why, God forbid, you would call him Al and call him so intimately,” Hill said.
Monroe was speechless for a second.
“Okay, on to something serious,” Hill said, leaning back against the wall, and in a light tone, he began to describe everything that had happened before. Outside was a fierce storm, while the atmosphere inside the house seemed somewhat quiet.
After Hill finished speaking, Monroe did not respond immediately, and Hill said, “What do you think about this matter?”
“My opinion and your opinion should be similar,” Monroe replied.
“Do you know my opinion?” Hill asked.
“I can probably guess a bit,” Monroe said.
“Oh.” Hill responded and asked proactively, “What do you think the Pope is up to?”
“That’s a very complicated question,” Monroe said.
“Everything is complicated.” Hill clenched his hand into a fist and smacked his chest with a smile: “You are not being honest.”
“Because smart people have so many tricks up their sleeves, sometimes it’s hard to make a judgment. After all, there are so many factors involved, many times it’s even just a matter of thought,” Monroe replied, his pupils remained quiet and just looked at Hill.
“Smart people are too tricky, so the best way is not to fight them intellectually, but to open them up and just rip out their guts,” Hill smiled and said very creepy words.
“You make a good point,” Monroe said.
“And what do you think of King Oitin?” Hill asked.
“There wasn’t a lot of contact.” Monroe replied, “So it’s impossible to tell.”
“Oh.” Hill scribbled and nodded, “How much has been going on over here lately?”
Monroe: “A lot, because there are fewer people available.”
Hill: “Don’t wear yourself out.”
Monroe: “Because it’s a demon body, it won’t get tired.”
Hill: “You managed to turn that comment of mine into nonsense, as well as a lack of words.”
Monroe: “…Sorry, my fault.”
Hill was by now sitting at the table over there, his index finger and thumb playing with the quill, the light and shadow cast on the parchment, dense and blurred. “Although you are very busy here, please spare some more time, I need you next.”
Monroe replied in a hushed voice: “It is incumbent upon me to be by your side, and that is where I truly belong.”
Hill wrote down the name of King Oitin on the parchment, and then drew a circle: “Listen, I have a plan. During the battle, in order to lure the enemy into the depths, he will sell a flaw, even if there is a flaw in itself. Although seventy percent of it is fake, there are also thirty percent that are real. And I am now going to catch that thirty percent.”
The quill was directly pinched in half by Hill, and the ink was spilled on the parchment.
Hill’s eyes flickered in and out of the candle flame.
“Here, help me perfect my plan.
Let’s make this quick.”
Outside, the rain continued to pour down.