It's Reasonable to Have More Fake Identities in the Conan World, Right?

[Fake Identities + No CP + Pure Gray + Clones + Original Organization + Frail Buff + Doesn't follow original cases but follows the main plot]

A well-known piano composer from Blue Star...

Chapter 1014 [Observation] I remember you, but you don't remember me.

Chapter 1014 [Observation] I remember you, but you don't remember me.

...

A day passed in the blink of an eye.

Christie's parents, fearing they would be caught by their son again, hurriedly packed their luggage and ran away, as if being caught meant they would have to continue being kings.

Seeing Christy's smiling face, a smile flickered in the man's eyes, and he reached out to rub Christy's head.

"Once you've finished dealing with Celitia, I'll come pick you up and we'll go experience life together."

Christie stared at him for a moment before smiling and nodding. "Okay."

The man pinched his cheek, preparing to slip away.

"Wait a minute," Christie suddenly called out to him.

The man looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"I'd like to ask where you're going next," Christie said, still smiling.

The man pondered for a moment, then said, "Angels, perhaps."

Christie blinked. "Angels?"

"Hmm." The man wasn't in a hurry to leave anymore. He crossed his arms and leaned against a pillar. "It seems the angel race has declined somewhat. No more six-winged angels have been born. I'm planning to go and see what the reason is."

A hint of surprise flashed across Christie's eyes. "What, you're responsible for all of this?"

The man paused for a moment, then said, "...more or less."

"You went to the Merfolk for a similar reason?" Christie felt a strange sensation in her heart, and her gaze towards the man became more serious.

The man nodded vaguely, "Hmm...maybe."

“Oh, I see. What about Celitia?” Christie asked with a slight smile.

"Ah...the weather is so nice, I think I should go now."

The man was about to slip away before he could finish speaking, but Christie quickly grabbed his wrist.

He said with a sly smile, "Sir, you'd better explain yourself first, or you're not leaving."

Ultimately, he was still in a superior position. Despite his gentle expression, he maintained an air of authority that was not to be underestimated.

But the man wasn't having any of it. He glanced at Christie dismissively and said, "Are you going to imprison me?"

Christie's composure crumbled in an instant.

"..."

The man glanced at him and said, "If you want to play around, I'll go along with it for a few days."

Christie's lips twitched. "No, no need, it's unnecessary. I'm not a pervert, don't misunderstand."

"Then I..."

The gentleman used the tactic of "feigning indifference to lure the enemy into a trap."

Christie immediately dragged him back into the house, then pressed him down on the sofa, saying with a forced smile, "You can just lie there."

The man lifted one leg and leaned back on the sofa, lazily gazing at Christie.

Christie sighed and turned to bring him some snacks and tea.

The gentleman leisurely picked up a pastry, took a bite and then a sip of tea, took another bite and then a sip of tea, and finally, under Christie's increasingly deep gaze, he took another sip of tea to moisten his throat, and spoke in an incredibly slow and leisurely tone.

"It's just about reducing the extinction of the race."

Christie raised an eyebrow slightly, looking quite interested.

“After all, every race needs a suitable leader.” The gentleman toyed with his teacup and continued casually, “Just like Seritia, if no suitable person sits on the throne, Seritia will most likely decline until it perishes.”

Christie understood, then smiled. "Looks like I'm the right one. No wonder you tried to seduce me."

Then, he changed the subject, asking with a hint of curiosity, "What if I hadn't agreed to your request?"

The man didn't take it to heart, saying, "Then I'll just have to sit in that seat myself and wait for the right person to appear."

Christie gave a slight smirk. "Like the merfolk?"

He remembered the last time he heard a mermaid call him a priest.

"More or less." The man spat out the tea leaves he had in his mouth, then, as if remembering something, turned to look at Christie. "You can probably just quit after sitting on the throne for two hundred years."

Christie: "?"

Is there really such a good thing?

He handed the teacup to Christie, asking him to pour another one. The man turned to the side and said, "Because Lyryd's ideal successor was Calvin, but unfortunately, something unexpected happened."

Christie suddenly realized why the gentleman had saved the little guy who only had one year left to live.

"So what happened?"

He moved the cup of tea he had poured to the opposite side, feigning ignorance.

"The accident was that I forgot and came a few years late," the man replied casually, seemingly used to his situation.

As expected.

Christie chuckled, then frowned. "So Lyryd will perish in two hundred years."

"Well, but don't worry too much. Races need to fight each other to survive. So in another eight hundred years, a new race will be born to rival the Serritias."

The man was kneading the chubby little bird that had flown over to him as a toy.

Christie: "..."

"So... it doesn't matter to you whether a race is wiped out or not?"

"Yeah, otherwise why do you think I would treat these things as a joke?"

The man chuckled softly, a wicked glint flashing in his unfathomable eyes.

Christie paused for a moment, then feigned sadness, "So, all I did was help you pass the time."

The man suppressed his smile, as if laughing would exhaust him, but he remained noncommittal about Christie's words.

He then slowly ate a few more pieces of pastry that would easily choke someone if not served with tea.

Christie sat opposite him, watching him eat with a smile on her face.

After finishing his tea, the gentleman took the handkerchief Christie handed him and wiped his fingertips. Then, he casually tossed the chubby little bird that was nestled on him to Christie. "Alright, I should go now."

Little Fat Bird: ...A second time! A second time! I got dumped again, sob sob sob.

“Okay.” Christie nodded and casually tossed the chubby little bird back into its nest.

The chubby little bird flapped its wings: ...

Liu Qingyao: "Nobody's going to speak up for that little chubby bird? Well, I'll speak up then, hahahahaha..."

Morataya sighed, "The gentleman is always philandering. Godfather, you have a good eye on him."

The Godfather smiled.

:)

Asa, who had somehow returned to his seat, said, "...Unbelievable, sir, you knew me first. Also, I didn't realize you were so much older than me."

Kawasaki Machi: "Godfather, you said you were under 10,000 years old!"

R: "I don't think I said that."

Kawasaki Machi: "..."

“That’s not right,” Behfinger noticed the crucial point. “Didn’t they say the Celestians only have a lifespan of a few thousand years?”

"That's right!"

In an instant, all eyes fell on R.

R lowered his eyes, took a sip of tea, and ignored those gazes.

Karasuma Renya: I'm genuinely envious. (bushi)

...

It has been exactly two hundred years.

Christie took care of everything in Celitia and even trained an assistant to manage her.

And as the gentleman said back then, Lyryd, without a good leader, declined in just two hundred years.

Countless people of Lyryd died, but not because of the war, but because their lives were cruelly taken away by their king.

Christie clicked her tongue in amazement, finished her last official business, and went home.

He had planned to wash up and rest, but when he turned around, he bumped into someone else.

Christie: "?"

He looked up and a strange but exceptionally beautiful face came into view.

The other person was covered in blood, his pure white clothes were stained red, and even his white hair was stained with sticky blood.

The other man raised his hand to wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth. His blue eyes remained unwavering as he scrutinized Christie. After a moment, he raised his hand to stroke Christie's cheek. "You're getting more and more handsome, Christie."

Christie paused for a moment, "Sir??"

The man's eyes flickered slightly, and he suddenly returned to the relaxed state that Christie was familiar with.

He crossed his arms. "What's wrong? This time I remember you, but you don't remember me?"

Christy snapped out of her daze, a helpless look on her face. "Sir, would you like to hear what you're saying?"

The man paused slightly, then said, "Oh."

"And what's with the blood on you? Are you injured?" Christie frowned again, circled around him, and then noticed the wound on his back.

The man waved his hand, turned to face him, and explained leisurely, "It's nothing, it's fake."

Christie: ?

He wasn't very convinced.

The man shrugged, and the next second, three pairs of pure white wings grew back, and the blood on his body disappeared without a trace.

Christie paused for a moment.

Okay, he believed it.

“Well…” Christie glanced at him and followed him to sit down on the sofa.

“A suitable successor to the high priest has appeared, so I simply faked my death.” The man casually stroked his long hair. “Coincidentally, the next one to go is the demon race.”

He briefly recounted what had happened after he arrived in the Angelic Realm, then yawned, "I'm going to rest for a while."

"……Um."

Christie watched him enter the room, let out a long sigh, then remembered she also needed to rest, so she got up and went to the bathroom.

-

-

Still hoping for free gifts and five stars!