Langman Griffin's daily routine seemed no different than any other.

When he opened his eyes at the Griffin house, the first urgent problem he faced was his mobile terminal filled with text messages and missed calls.

First is the push of news client:

"The Holy See announces its report on the handling of the case of Bishop Leopold's dereliction of duty and irregularities in the town of Keminting."

This is an afterthought that should be thrown into the trash. Leopold is still sleeping in his coffin, and there is no difference between being alive and dead. His old friends must be hoping that he will never wake up again so that they can put all the blame on a vegetable.

Next article: Federal Defense Minister Antonio admitted for the first time that he is considering peace talks with the Zerg, and a complete ceasefire on the border may be achieved within two months.

Langman stared at the line of words for two seconds, then curiously opened the curtains and looked out the window, only to find that the sun was still rising in the east.

"Has Antonio changed his ways? Isn't he the most resolute leader of the Hawks?"

It can be seen that everything is possible. The Minister of Defense, who was unwilling to cease fire at all costs, has actually begun to prepare for peace talks.

Could it be that the Vatican had discovered a threat more serious than the Zerg, so that this guy who was loyal to the Chief Archon actually went against her wishes and took the initiative to issue a statement to completely recall the armed forces stationed on the border to recuperate?

Or... did the Chief Minister of the Federation himself change his mind after Igor Sullivan was completely overthrown?

However, this change had little to do with Langman Griffin. As an established aristocratic family, the Griffin family had always been at odds with the military, which prioritized the promotion of upstarts from humbler backgrounds. They had never had a say in military decisions, focusing most of their energy on macroeconomic regulation of the federal economy and overseeing logistical research.

So he just sighed for the sake of emotion, roughly estimated the possibility of a reshuffle of the federal central political situation, and then focused his attention on the urgent messages sent by others.

The first message was sent to him by Langman's secretary. From midnight yesterday till now, there have been seventy-seven messages in total. Now the message prompt is still jumping, indicating that the other party is still trying to contact his boss relentlessly.

Langman directly sent a video communication request to the other party.

Answer immediately.

"You'd better keep your words short." Langman flashed his signature fake smile at the girl on the other end of the video. "If there's one unnecessary line, I'll deduct your salary by the number of seconds you waste of my precious time."

"The daughter of Richard Tollem, whom you asked me to keep an eye on, has arrived in the capital," the secretary sputtered. "And Mr. Ford Hill has emailed our headquarters, asking when we can discuss compensation with Ms. Erica's official guardian."

"...So fast?" Langman couldn't help but grumble. "He's really being overly active when he shouldn't be. Is this kind of head-on spirit, refusing to turn back even when faced with challenges, the hallmark of a successful commentator's career? Or is Ford Hill's reputation really based on his face?"

The secretary pretended not to hear anything: "So you can't meet with them?"

"Yes, why not?" Langman sat up from the bed. "Tell them to meet at 3 pm at the Griffin mansion. Send a car to pick them up."

After a pause, he asked again, "When exactly was my previous appointment with the Vatican?"

The secretary watched her boss get up on video chat. Even though she knew she was a complete scumbag, she couldn't help but exclaim, "What a rare beauty!" Then, relying on her unwavering professionalism and her pursuit of a salary, she quickly recovered and glanced at the memo beside her. "Today at noon, do you want to postpone this meeting?"

Langman thought for two seconds and rejected the idea. "No, that's fine. If I haven't finished talking to Bishop Gilbert, let Ford and the others wait a little longer."

"After all, he came from Port Alplai, a place full of uncultured barbarians and insane mad dogs. It's just right for him to let the prosperity of the city cleanse his soul, which has been polluted by horse food and bird droppings."

secretary:"……"

As long as you are happy.

**

The Griffin House is an older building.

The federal capital was settled in the current capital star about two hundred years ago, and the Griffin family has been prosperous for more than one hundred and fifty years. This old house has always been located no more than five kilometers away from Maan Castle, where the Chief Consul lives.

Because the construction of high-rise buildings was not allowed near Ma'an Fort in the early years, for a long time, the three-story Griffin House was able to face Ma'an Fort from a distance, fully demonstrating the noble status of the Griffin family.

So it is no wonder that Langman Griffin, who grew up in such an environment and ultimately won the brutal power struggle, developed an arrogant and conceited character.

...Though this also has a lot to do with the fact that he's a hopeless scumbag.

How painful it would be to have to be an enemy of such a shrewd, cold-blooded and unscrupulous person.

With a little sympathy, the secretary opened the car door for Azathoth, and then cast his loving gaze on Erica, who looked confused.

"Wow." The most magnificent building Erica had ever seen was the Port Alper City Hall. The moment she got out of the car, she was inevitably moved by the ancient and luxurious appearance of the Griffin House and let out a slight sigh.

The secretary showed no surprise or disdain. She maintained a polite yet sympathetic expression as she addressed the guests who were about to visit Langman Griffin. "I'll take you to the living room for a while. I'm very sorry, but Mr. Langman is currently conversing with Bishop Gilbert, and we've gone a little over schedule. If you don't mind, you can rest here for a while. We'll provide you with afternoon tea and cakes."

Because Azathoth was too lazy to speak, no one expressed any objection. Although Ford looked like he wanted to make a few sarcastic remarks, he was unwilling to speak ill of the god in front of him.

The secretary was completely unaware of the implicit communication between them, and she actually had another thought in her mind.

——Why are all the guests that boss invited this time so good-looking?

Ford Hill, with his short, shimmering blond hair and blue-gray eyes, possessed deep, three-dimensional features, a typical Capitalist look. A few days ago, Langman had placed him under house arrest, hoping to extract information about the inside story of Port Alplai. Rumors abounded in the aristocratic circles, often unaware of the truth and prone to turmoil, suggesting that this renowned commentator had become the Griffin family's "lover."

The guest standing next to Ford, Mr. Bradley, had a sharper and colder look, more like the inhabitants of certain northern planets, and long dark gray hair like the fur of a wild wolf. Igor said it was long hair because he wanted to distinguish himself from his past self, and because he rarely went to the barber shop during his travels, it had grown to about shoulder height without realizing it.

Azathoth once casually said that he looked better with long hair than short hair. Igor himself didn't need to join the army and didn't need to pay attention to his image all the time, so he simply tied his hair into a slightly fluffy thumb-length braid.

In the eyes of Langman's secretary, this is definitely a plus.

As for the young man who was wearing a hood and whose face could not be seen... the secretary, relying on her years of experience with Langman Griffin, the capital's famous man-eating plant, could swear before God: judging by the other person's exposed jawline alone, if he was not good-looking, she would poke her own eyes out!

Even the two little ones, Hugo with black hair and red eyes, and Erica with soft brown hair and jewel-like green eyes, can confuse countless uncles and aunts with their angelic appearance.

That’s great… the secretary thought secretly. Just by having the advantage of being able to enjoy the beauty every day, serving Langman Griffin, the king of scum, seemed no longer so unbearable.

They rested in the living room of the Griffin mansion for nearly half an hour, and no one objected to the long, seemingly endless wait. Everyone sat on the sofa in a formal manner, and even the posture of enjoying afternoon tea was steady and quiet, almost silent.

Affected by this inexplicably solemn atmosphere, the secretary, who had originally intended to say something to lighten the mood, suddenly lost interest in starting a conversation. They maintained a heavy and solemn expression, like six mourners in a church, until an old man's laughter echoed from upstairs. The next moment, the study door unlocked, and Langman Griffin quickly walked to the stairs, a cheerful smile on his face, as if to greet his guests.

——Then he looked at the people downstairs who looked up silently, and his smile gradually disappeared.

“…What are you doing?”

The head of the Griffin family looked at the six people, all dressed neatly in suits, sitting in two rows of sofas, and had the inexplicable illusion that the rectangular coffee table between them had turned into a transparent glass tomb.