My Substitute CEO Bride (Nash and Hera) novel Chapter 2142

Just then, Mosley's phone rang.

His slightly goofy expression suddenly turned solemn. He looked at the number on the phone, and his hand stopped in mid-air as if he was reluctant to answer the phone.

He reconsidered again, then stood up and said to the two of them, "Excuse me, I need to step out for a while."

"Why don't you just answer the call here? Are you doing something behind my back?" Nash teased him merely as a joke. He did not want to pry on Mosley’s business. Judging from Mosley’s solemn expression, it had to be something important.

A grin quickly appeared on Mosley's face, then he pretended to be embarrassed as he said, "Oh, it's my… That..."

"Okay, okay. Ew, don't disgust me. Go ahead. I'll save the chicken drumstick for you." Nash waved his hand to signal him to answer the phone quickly.

Mosley nodded and walked out the door. When he reached a relatively remote corner, he answered the phone.

"Hey, Patrick. Why did you call?"

Patrick, the current Crossover Judge of Gorgeous Country, was an extremely loud and boisterous person. Every time after he completed his task, he would whip out his electric guitar to help the souls transcend.

In his words, this method could also purify the surrounding area so that it would not easily become an area of resentment. However, in Mosley's eyes, this colleague seemed more like a deranged person.

"Hey! Mossy Baby, where are you now? Do you want to come and play a duet with me?"

"Not interested. Get to the point," Mosley, who had always been extremely carefree, pulled a rare long face when faced with this particular colleague. There was a tinge of annoyance in his tone as well.

"Oh, Mossy Baby, you’re making me sad. Well, I think you should know why I'm looking for you."

"What if I say I don't know?"

"No, you do. The old woman in management is dead."

"Dead… What do you mean?" There was no concept of death in the eyes of this organization. Therefore, even if Mosley knew what Patrick was going to say, he still had to pretend not to know. Patrick would always try to test the waters with his words.

"I mean it literally. She’s dead."

Mosley replied in a lukewarm manner, "So what? She can just reincarnate. Are your brains fired? Why are you even telling me this?"

"A resentment monster, right?" Patrick said in a slightly mocking tone. "What about it? Wouldn’t it be better if she really ended up that way? As long as we defeat the old woman, then we can gain a thousand years… No, possibly even ten thousand years worth of power.”

"We? Sorry, I'm not interested." Mosley planned to draw a clear line with this lunatic.

"You’re not interested? I don't think so." At this time, a figure emerged from the shadow, and it was Patrick.

He was holding a sickle-like weapon in his hand. A closer look revealed that there were strings on the weapon, and the huge sickle blade was covered with scarlet serrations.

As for Patrick, his slender body was wrapped with a thick layer of bandages from chest to waist, but it made his upper body look much smaller. One could not help but wonder how someone with such a thin upper body could swing such a huge sickle blade.

On the contrary, his lower trunk muscles were extremely strong. Patrick’s legs were exaggeratedly thick, each leg was almost thicker than his torso.

He wore half a pumpkin-head mask on his head. His dark eyes were shrouded in hidden mystery.

"Why are you here, Patrick?" Mosley asked in annoyance.