"I'll let you know as soon as I hear anything." Griffith's handsome face revealed a faintly wicked smile. He was bored anyway. Not long ago, he had been picking fights everywhere, and now his fearsome reputation in the South Seas was enough to stop kids from crying at night, successfully overshadowing Reginald Yeager's former popularity.
Forget receiving banquet invitations—he couldn't even go out for a meal without a three-meter bubble of avoidance around him.
These days, hardly anyone in the aristocratic circles dared to hold a banquet. After all, if this god of destruction showed up, should they invite him or not?
"How's Leah doing?" Delphine lowered her eyes and whispered in a soft, cautious voice.
"She's fine," Griffith replied nonchalantly, squinting as he smiled. "I might have to leave the South Seas soon. If you need to find me, just remember the contact method we used before."
