Chapter 634 It Does Not Affect Our Relationship
“No, you’re not.” The black mist surged around Dalton, attempting to thaw his icy demeanor.
Unmoved, Dalton spread his arms and lay back quietly into the serene depths of the Dark River, the deepest part of the underworld.
He had always been reckless. Now, as he lay down, not a single spirit dared disturb him.
Before those desires, which surged forth upon his entry into the Dark River, could even reach him, they scattered and fled in disarray.
On this day, the evil spirits gathered for a small meeting.
“Is the lord in a bad mood?”
“Very bad.”
“What should we do? Should we still go out?”
“If you don’t even want to be a ghost, you can try to leave.”
“I think I’ll just stay here and continue sleeping.”
The water rippled. The river’s depth was unfathomable.
Only Dalton, draped in a red robe, appeared to be asleep, exuding an air of elegance and nobility as
though he belonged there.
Earthbound Formations would often leave behind some spirits‘ memories
When Wynter couldn’t make sense of some things, she hoped to find more clues through Leo,
However, for some reason, he had retreated into the lucky coin and refused to come out.
When Wynter received a call from the current Dalton, both Leo and the twins seemed to vanish into thin air. They lowered their resentment to its lowest ebb.
“How’s everything going?” Dalton’s voice was still as pleasant as ever. “Mrs. Quinnell and Mr. Quinnell Senior are very worried about you. Come back once..
done with everything.”
Wynter looked around her to ensure that nothing was following her. “I’ll be back soon. Tell Grandpa not to sleep yet. I have something to ask him.”
In that instant, Wynter was reminded of his appearance 100 years ago and couldn’t help but ask, “Do you prefer red over black?”
Wynter straddled her bike and adjusted the windscreen. “It’s just a thought. Your face, paired with a red robe, would probably look quite striking.”
As the busy tone sounded from the other end, Dalton smiled faintly.
The red bracelet was already on his wrist. Yet, a palpable intensity emanated from behind him, as if seeking to overshadow the darkness itself.
The Fankrit inscriptions on his body seemed to lose their restraint at this moment, and the chanting
resonated.
Glancing at his wrist, Dalton saw that the bracelet had dimmed, becoming an ordinary bracelet.
Yet, he acted as if nothing had happened as he strode indoors confidently. In his impeccably tailored suit, he exuded an air of refinement.
“Go cook some pasta.”
“Yes, Mr. Yarwood.”
People always obeyed his commands instinctively. That was a fact that had never changed.
Meanwhile, under a bridge, an old man spinning tales suddenly stood up
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