Chapter 33
To be honest, Ye Yihe didn't really want to go with these two guys.
The reason is simple: you are looking for Fyodor, what does he have to do with Yeykh?
But there was no way around it; after all, he had borrowed Fyodor's body and was using his name, so he naturally had to take on some responsibility for the other party—whether it was good or bad.
Not to mention that the fact that Lady Agatha could invite him so quickly clearly showed that from the moment he set foot on British soil, his every move had been under her surveillance.
As for the fact that the invitation was extended after Mary Shelley had parted ways rather than in her presence, it was probably a way of leaving some room for maneuver on the other side—it wouldn't be good for either side to strain the relationship too much before there was any open hostility.
The Duchess... sounds like an official leader, but her demeanor and speech are quite different from those of a police officer. Could she be from a secret organization like the FBI in the United States?
Ye Yihe found it hard to imagine what Fyodor had done here that would make the other party so wary, and the "invitation" was sent so quickly after he set foot on British soil.
He's been intensively studying English lately and hasn't had time to listen to his previous audio recordings on the system... It seems he should make time to listen to them all...
Even as his thoughts wandered further, Ye Yihe remained calm, still pondering how to answer.
But the fact that those wine-red eyes were merely silently and persistently fixed on the two "special personnel" blocking his way put immense mental pressure on them.
They had heard of the Demon's terrifying nature, and even Commander Agatha had repeatedly warned them before setting off not to say a single word to him, but simply to follow orders.
Therefore, when they came to "invite" the other party, they constantly warned themselves not to let their guard down, and to pretend not to hear any seductive words they heard—in other words, they were on the premise that the demon would definitely try to confuse and persuade them.
On the other hand, Britain is now known as the world's strongest nation of superpowered individuals, and they belong to the special agency [Clock Tower Attendants] that specifically governs superpowered individuals, so they naturally have a superior mentality.
This naturally led to a deep sense of contempt when they faced this seemingly frail and young demon.
How could they possibly listen to what these foreigners say? Let alone be brainwashed or anything like that—it's simply impossible.
—But to their surprise, the other party clearly understood that the request was half coercion and half invitation, but did not try to resolve the issue with words as they had expected.
The quieter the atmosphere, the more nervous they become. It's an uncontrollable subconscious feeling, much like how animals are afraid to approach the unknown.
This is a psychological war that the other side launched without warning!
The two servants' backs were slowly soaked with cold sweat.
He really is a terrifying guy... a demon.
What is your answer?
One of the servants finally couldn't hold back any longer and spoke up.
This also means their failure in psychological warfare—the other side didn't say a word, but shattered their arrogant mentality with just a glance.
"let me see,"
After hearing another urging, the other party finally spoke.
He speaks very slowly, and his words are very clear. Some of his words are not pronounced strictly according to phonetics, but this creates a unique rhythm.
"Should I prepare some gifts before I go to see her?"
—Upon uttering these words, the two servants broke out in a cold sweat, and their hands behind their backs began to tremble slightly.
What kind of greeting gift... their lives, you say?
The two of them didn't dare to utter a single word for a long time, which made Ye Yihe glance at them strangely.
It's common sense to prepare a gift when visiting someone's home, right? Doesn't the UK have this custom too? Why did it surprise them so much?
He didn't really mind going to the appointment, but it wouldn't be good to come empty-handed—besides, bringing a gift would also convey his goodwill.
Maybe this can help Fedor regain some positive image.
The clouds in the sky were still thick, and the dim light could no longer provide much illumination, making the sea breeze even more humid. The coolness, carrying moisture, clung to the skin, bringing a chill that went straight to the heart.
Is this the Demon's method? It's terrifying! He saw through their thoughts in a single glance and issued a terrifying threat with ease...!
Just as the attendant was wondering how to answer, another attendant spoke from the military walkie-talkie on his chest.
"Mr. Fyodor,"
A clear, elegant female voice came through, possessing a gentle and polite British accent, like that of a long-established aristocrat steeped in luxury.
It was Agatha Christie speaking; she had been listening quietly from the sidelines from the beginning.
"Please stop teasing my subordinates. I assure you there will be no traps at this afternoon tea."
"Oh, so you've been here all along."
With a faint smile and a voice that seemed to realize something only now, the owner of those wine-red eyes finally bowed slightly and addressed the two servants.
"Let's go this way then."
After a brief exchange of just two or three words, the two attendants' thoughts and attitudes underwent a dramatic change, and their actions of leading the way and opening the car door for him became both cautious and respectful.
As expected of the "Demon" Fyodor, whom even Knight Commander Agatha was wary of, he instilled a tangible fear in them with just a few words, as if they were walking on a tightrope between life and death...!
Ye Yihe looked at their heads, which were almost bent at a ninety-degree angle as they opened the door: ?
I've never seen the British so polite.
The car drove smoothly, heading towards the centuries-old Victorian-style castle. Its towering, magnificent spires seemed to pierce the clouds that blanketed the British Isles, its exquisitely carved windows were arranged in a pleasing pattern, and its light red brick exterior was adorned with large Roman-style reliefs.
As the carriage passed through the Baroque-style shell-shaped archway and the geometrically manicured courtyard, stopping in front of one of the gates, two other servants waiting at the door immediately stepped forward, bowed, and continued to lead Ye Yihe the way.
Putting everything else aside, the level of hospitality was truly impressive.
This also suggests that Fyodor must have done something extraordinary here, which is why the other party is receiving him with such caution and grandeur, as if he were a ticking time bomb, dangerous and extremely destructive.
The closer you get to this point, the more you need to act as if nothing is wrong, just like the most important thing before a battle is not to be tense, but to relax.
Ye Yihe followed them through a long corridor covered with a red carpet, past a high-ceilinged, spacious hall, and all the way to a greenhouse filled with flowers and orchids.
In the very center, surrounded by flowers and plants, stood two velvet sofas and a low table. On the multi-tiered, openwork dessert stand were beautifully shaped cream cakes, macarons, mousses, and some other tea snacks he couldn't recognize.
Agatha Christie, with a smile on her face, sat on one of the sofas, and even the gesture of raising her hand to invite Ye Yihe to sit down exuded elegance.
On the low table in front of the sofa opposite her, someone had already brought her a cup of steaming black tea.
"Good day, Mr. Fyodor."
Perhaps knowing all along that verbal maneuvering with the devil was futile, Agatha chose to get straight to the point after the greetings.
“I thought you would stay in Russia, given—well, a little bit of information I heard earlier.”
Russia... that must have been at least half a year ago? Ye Yihe recalled his two awakenings in Russia.
Once, he was riding in a prison van on his way to prison; another time, he was a priest in training at a church.
At the time, he didn't know the original owner's identity and was focused on doing good deeds, so he didn't think much of it. Now, replaying the events in his mind... Hmm, could Fyodor's target be those few pages of the burned instructions for manufacturing superpowered weapons...?
No wonder he later left Russia—what he wanted had been burned to ashes, and there was no point in him staying any longer.
The Duchess Agatha in front of her clearly knew that Fyodor was looking for something in Russia, but she did not expect Fyodor to find it so quickly, and she did not expect that with her interference, the thing flew directly to heaven.
"But now you have come to England specifically to contact our Dr. Shelley."
Lady Agatha picked up her cup of black tea.
Her eyes were a beautiful honey color, and she was looking up at him—even though her posture remained elegant, her gaze held a hint of inquiry and wariness.
"What are your plans, Mr. Fyodor?"
Ye Yihe stared at her for a moment, then took out the job advertisement cut from the newspaper from his pocket, slowly unfolded it, and turned it over to show her.
"He was just applying for the job as her personal assistant to make a living."
Agatha: "…………"
Who would believe that?
Even if the job posting was real, she couldn't possibly allow the Witch to freely contact Mary Shelley—her achievements in applied military science were equivalent to several armies.
"Then please allow me to be more frank, Mr. Fyodor."
Agatha emphasized the syllables slightly, “Suppose a mouse gets into the house, I don’t want it to chew up anything—including silk, furniture, and brick walls. Do you understand?”
This was a roundabout warning. Ye Yihe calmly observed her for a moment, then slightly raised his eyebrows.
"Yes, of course I know."
He responded, "But if a lion is about to enter someone's house, how can they be sure about the presence of rats?"
Anyone can make threats, but he never accepts them.
Although Ye Yihe was merely using threats to defeat threats, Agatha's hand holding the teacup trembled slightly, clearly taking it seriously.
She believed Fyodor was capable of doing what he said, just as he had casually instigated infighting among the Clock Tower Servants, nearly resulting in heavy casualties.
She forcefully quelled the riot and for that achievement became the captain of the [Clock Tower Attendants].
Agatha knew perfectly well that the other party was proposing a deal.
He wouldn't do anything to disrupt the situation, but in return, she had to acquiesce to his freedom of movement while he was in England.
After a long silence, Agatha took a sip of her black tea and sighed softly, "I understand."
She placed the teacup back on the table, raised her hand to signal the servant to turn on the computer he was holding, and turned the screen towards Ye Yihe.
"If you show mercy, we have prepared a corresponding gift for you. When you leave, please take him with you."
Ye Yihe looked over; the image was somewhat blurry, but it was clear that a man who was noticeably overweight was being held in a heavily guarded solitary confinement cell.
Who is this?
Ye Yihe looked up at her, his expression unchanged.
"So you've already given up on Mr. Pushkin?"
Agatha Christie crossed her fingers and was not surprised by this.
"But they are still your subordinates, so please treat them with a little care—like a good handkerchief."
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