It wasn't surprising. Complete capitulation would be no different from groveling, and William I, determined to stop being a lapdog for the three gods, was pushing for a Black Emperor. Why would he then grovel to the True Creator?
After the negotiations, William I got what he wanted. Though he lost some interests, he held his ground on core principles and confirmed the True Creator genuinely sought cooperation... or so he thought.
William I's confidence stemmed from believing that the War Angel, craving conflict, and the sealed True Creator shared aligned interests and goals with the Augustus family.
People might lie, but they wouldn't betray their own interests.
He was satisfied, and Alaric and his group were even more so. William I had no idea that the sincere allies he believed in were a mirage, set up to deceive him.
People don't betray their interests, but no rule says there's only one way to gain them.
William I couldn't be blamed. Who could anticipate an anomaly like Alaric? Even angels of this era couldn't grasp the concept of striving for the people's happiness.
After the talks, the War Angel didn't linger in the palace. He soon appeared in the pocket dimension where Alaric and Medici waited. His ruby-like eyes swept over Alaric from head to toe, and he clicked his tongue. "Tch, I didn't realize my future self's taste would sink this low."
"Maybe because you were blind?" Alaric replied, unfazed, blinking earnestly. "If you had better eyesight, you wouldn't have ended up as hot pot fodder."
The War Angel's smile froze, his gaze turning dangerous, as if plotting where to start roasting.
"Don't give me that look. You can't touch me anyway." Alaric said, unbothered, since the Shadow of Time couldn't harm its summoner. He smiled at the War Angel. "Besides, with your affection for me, you wouldn't attack over a single jab."
While the Shadow of Time didn't share the memories of its future self, it inherited its affection. Despite the War Angel's scowl, his goodwill toward Alaric was already quietly above 80.
"Hmph!" The War Angel sneered, his gaze shifting to Medici, who was watching the show with a hint of schadenfreude. He snorted. "How'd you end up with this guy?"
Medici, unfazed by his younger self's mockery, casually pulled out two apples, tossing one to Alaric and munching on the other. After swallowing a bite, he glanced at the War Angel and shrugged. "No choice. Nowhere else to go, so this little monster took in a homeless Red."
The War Angel's brows furrowed, his expression dripping with disdain. "How'd you get so pathetic?"
"You started the snark first." Medici shot back, grinning. As a true Hunter, he didn't hold back, even against his past self. "Calling me blind? Who's the blind one here?"
"I'm calling you blind!" The War Angel retorted without hesitation. "Who else would let themselves end up this broken and weak? Honestly, I'm embarrassed to claim you. Are you really my future self, or are you just pulling a fast one?"
Medici chuckled, not out of anger. He gave the War Angel a once-over, his gaze critical. "What's there to scam you for?" He said, shaking his head as he inspected him from every angle.
When two Red Angels clashed, they showcased the pinnacle of Hunter behavior... relentless, indiscriminate snark.
Alaric watched with glee, munching on his apple. When he finished, he wiped his mouth with a tissue and said, "Alright, stop bickering. You both share the blame for ending up like this."
The two Red Angels, mid-mockery, paused in unison. Two pairs of ruby-like eyes... eerily similar yet subtly different... turned to Alaric, both radiating hostility.
Alaric, unfazed, flashed them a calm smile. "Just to clarify, I'm a conscientious boss. Following me doesn't count as poor taste."
"Hah, a conscientious boss who works his employees to near death?" Medici said, barely restraining an eye roll.
"No choice. You're the employee I trust most in this world, Red. If I don't give those tasks to you, who can I trust?" Alaric spread his hands, speaking candidly.
It was the truth. Though Alaric had roped many into his chaos club, beings like Mr. Door weren't fully trusted, and their conditions weren't ideal for work. In the end, the tasks fell to Medici.
Medici glanced at Alaric, seeing his sincerity, and clicked his tongue. "That's some heavy trust."
Alaric blinked, then shifted gears. "And on that note, don't you share some responsibility here, Red?"
"Huh?" Medici looked at Alaric, his expression practically screaming, Let's see how you pin this on me.
Alaric, undeterred, said confidently, "As they say, a bad leader works themselves to death. I'm good at leading teams, so I can stay carefree. But you, Red, insist on doing everything yourself instead of grooming trusted subordinates to share the load. No wonder you're exhausted!"
Medici finally rolled his eyes. "Ever consider that I am grooming subordinates? Who do you think handles the base day-to-day? It's just that your task-dumping speed is so fast... across different fields, no less... that my grooming can't keep up."
"You think everyone's like me, juggling multiple roles?"
"Well…" Alaric gave a rare, sheepish smile, then perked up, looking at Medici earnestly. "Don't worry, Red. To free you up sooner, I'll definitely poach Sasrir. Then you'll have it easy."
"…"
He rolled his eyes again. "Go ahead and poach. If you pull it off, I'll be impressed."
The War Angel suddenly interjected, "Sasrir?"
"You don't know, do you? This guy's had his eye on Sasrir for ages, dying to recruit him to work for him." Medici said, glancing at his past self without holding back. "I've got to admire his persistence."
***
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