Longman Griffin fancies himself a civilized man.

Of course, he couldn't really kill Adams Rossetti like that, and it wasn't for any righteous reason like obeying the law. Even if he wanted to negotiate business with someone, he still had to find out what they needed beforehand. Even if he ran to Ulysses Valen or Azathoth to claim credit, saying, "Look, I killed your enemy beforehand," he would most likely be considered a psychopath—they probably didn't even know who Adams was, and naturally, he wouldn't express gratitude to the Griffin family for some inexplicable reason.

Therefore, Adams himself did not know that he had walked through the gates of hell. The banquet ended abruptly not long after. He vaguely felt that Langman's attitude towards him had changed 180 degrees, from being friendly at the beginning to being indifferent and even a little sarcastic afterwards, just like looking at a person who had one foot in the coffin without knowing it.

But no matter how hard Adams tried, he couldn't figure out why all this was happening.

I heard that Langman Griffin's mental condition was not normal a few years ago?

With a subtle sense of vigilance, Adams didn't say much after returning home. Instead, he behaved honestly and low-key, and didn't even have time to deal with the tabloids that fabricated pink gossip.

Unfortunately, his youngest son, Lyle Rossetti, was completely unable to understand his father's painstaking efforts.

**

"Uncle Nixon?" Wendy said, "What do you want from me?"

"Don't address me like that at work." Nixon, who had suddenly become an uncle, put his hands in his pockets and said to Wendy seriously, "Those people in your family...your brothers, what have they been busy with lately?"

"What are you busy with?" Wendy looked confused. "I'm not busy."

"Really? Does that mean Yuri really has a crush on the Rossetti family's youngest son?"

Wendy thought carefully before she remembered who this person was. It couldn't be helped. She encountered more bizarre events and names every day now than she had in the past ten years combined. Since Yuri himself didn't care, she naturally couldn't care less about a minor figure who had nothing to do with her—though Lyle himself probably wouldn't admit that.

"I feel like he's the same as before. He doesn't seem like we're in a relationship," Wendy replied thoughtfully, tapping her temple. "Why do you say that?"

Nixon shoved a screenshot of a tabloid headline from the gossip section at her. "Your sensitivity needs to be improved, but let's not talk about it for now. You see, the rumor I mentioned to you two days ago hasn't died down yet."

Not only did it not subside, the heat even increased slightly.

As far as Nixon knew, the Rossetti family wasn't so open-minded as to joke about their youngest son's love affairs, but for some reason, they hadn't intervened even after the rumors had been circulating for two full days. This made Nixon almost suspect that they had already known about Yuri's connection to Azathoth and were trying to use this as a way to connect with some important figure.

He did not know Rossetti's specific thoughts and movements, but Igor did not control his speech, which became meaningful in the eyes of those in the know.

If you want to shut up the tabloids, it only takes a word.

But the tabloids are still spreading rumors. Does this mean... He or one of His followers wants to see this result?

With this in mind, those eager to curry favor with the gods didn't dare to make any major moves, leading to a strange stalemate. The topic heated up even more amidst a subtle indulgence that was the opposite of restraint.

Wendy understood what Nixon meant.

She also found it a bit strange, but since this was Yuri's personal matter after all, she didn't give an immediate answer. Instead, she invited him, "Would you like to come to our house for dinner tonight? Brother told me a while ago that you two hadn't seen each other for several months."

Nixon's relaxed expression froze in an instant.

He began to simulate in his mind 108 ways to politely refuse.

But Wendy was a decisive girl. Seeing that Nixon did not immediately refuse, she thought that he had agreed, so she happily set a time and returned to her desk to start working.

Nixon opened and closed his mouth. He really couldn't bear to disappoint Wendy's expectations. Besides, he really hoped to have a chance to meet and chat with Igor... Well, it was just a visit to an old friend, nothing special.

He's not a follower of some evil tentacle monster, nor does he live with strange beings, nor does he display affectionately without paying attention to others... Everything is so ordinary and normal! Calm down, Nixon! It's been so many years, you're used to all the changes. You can do this!

It is absolutely, absolutely fine to visit married old classmates!

The commentator spent the entire afternoon absent-mindedly fishing, his mind filled with scenes from horror movies.

Damn your fucking imagination.

**

Nixon contacted Igor in advance to confirm that he would go for dinner that evening.

Then he dressed up, meticulously arranging his casual clothes—as if he were wearing a bulletproof vest—and calmly walked to the familiar apartment and rang the doorbell.

The door opened.

Things seem to be a little different from what I imagined.

It was Wendy who came out to greet him again. She had a bitter face, as if she had encountered a huge problem that she didn't know how to describe or how to solve. She made a "please" gesture to Nixon.

"Uncle Nixon, I'm terribly sorry but I must say you've arrived at a very bad time."

Didn't you invite me here?

Nixon carefully stepped his left foot into the abyss… no, into Igor’s door, and while taking off his coat and shoes, he asked, “What happened?”

"Didn't you ask me what my brother was up to this afternoon?" Wendy frowned and spoke vaguely, "Now I know."

Two minutes later, Nixon was allowed into the master bedroom of the house, and he began to understand why Wendy had that expression.

Standing before him was a... uh, a black goat kid.

At first glance, it looks like an ordinary black goat kid with fine curly hair, looking fluffy and cute.

"Is this your pet...?" Nixon wanted to say that this kind of pet was quite rare, but as soon as he said it, he felt a chill on his back and shivered all over. Then he found that Azathoth, Igor and the lamb were looking at him at the same time.

For some reason, Nixon felt a chill from the lamb, scratching its hooves on the carpet, a chill that was like standing in a freezer. The creepy feeling lingered in him, constantly stimulating his brain. If Igor hadn't been there, he might have run away.

"These are our children." Azathoth's tone was also difficult to describe, but he spoke slowly and his words were clear enough, so Nixon understood exactly what he was saying.

But the commentator would rather be a little deaf and blind, hearing nothing and seeing nothing.

"What did you say?" he asked with difficulty.

"It's like this." In this awkward and complicated moment, Wendy stepped forward to explain to Nixon, "Although she is said to be, uh, conceived by the gods, she is not a 'child' in the biological sense."

Nixon breathed a sigh of relief reflexively, not even realizing what he was relaxing for.

Things are clearly getting weirder!

Unnecessary knowledge has been added!

"And it is said that this is not her true appearance."

As Wendy spoke, she glanced at the yawning lamb lying there, feeling like she could pet its fur without being rejected. But would anyone really dare to pet a lamb at this moment? It looked adorable, though.

"That's right." Azathoth said expressionlessly, "Before you first met her, she didn't seem to conform to human aesthetics."

Igor, who was standing next to him, recalled the rotten flesh tumbling and tangled together under the mist, the black tentacles that were the same as Azathoth's, and the short hooves growing between the tendons. Although he was already familiar with the strange appearance of these gods, goose bumps still instinctively appeared on his arms.

Azathoth seemed to know what he was thinking and gave him a look of aggrieved expression that only Igor could see.

'It's not our fault.'

"I didn't say I didn't like it." Igor looked back calmly.

"Do you think it looks good?" the god continued.

'……'

The human followers pretended not to see.

After all, admitting one's acceptance and habits is one thing, and the emotional filter is eight hundred meters thick, but the natural aesthetic of a species... cannot be distorted and lied to because of love for the whole family.

"This isn't her true form." Azathoth gave up and explained to his sister and the guests, "She probably fell out from some corner of the universe. Don't take it too seriously. You can call her 'her' or 'her'."

"But she has the same thinking ability as humans," he added, "so don't try to deceive or control her."

Strictly speaking, this is not the first time, Azathoth is very skilled.

The key with the ability to manipulate time and space that he encountered in the town of Keminting was more or less related to him... This is not easy to explain. After all, the timeline of Azathoth is relatively chaotic. The only thing we know is that the original creator god and the bunch of "evil gods" wandering in an unknown universe are basically related.

And the one in front of us... this incarnation of the legendary Supreme Mother Goddess came before Azathoth by chance, and in the process of merging with the world to obtain a body, she accidentally became contaminated with the breath of Azathoth and Igor's bodies (probably because these were the two "humans" closest to her), so when Azathoth introduced it just now, he said "our child".

This will cover up the fact that the little life was conceived in the chaos during the previous unmarried period!

Today's smart get√

Although Igor doesn't care about such things at all.

After a short, breathless silence, Nixon asked a question that everyone was concerned about:

"Hey, Miss (?), what's your name?"

"Shab," Azathoth searched his memory for a long time before finding the relevant content (he almost gave a new name to this uninvited Outer God clone, who was now barely considered his and Igor's child), "You can call her Shab."

As soon as he finished speaking, the young black goat let out a soft cry and turned into a naked little girl lying on the ground in full view of everyone.

Nixon quickly raised his head and looked at the ceiling without saying anything.

Wendy whispered beside him, "It seems that my brother and the God have been busy with this matter these past two days, so they haven't had time to deal with Yuri's gossip."

“…”

The non-existent bitter tears evaporated in my eyes.

If time could go back a few hours, Nixon would definitely say: I don't want to know!

At this moment, Igor raised his hand and put the sheet on the child, then turned around and asked his sister as if nothing had happened: "What's wrong with Yuri?"