20demayo Chapter 120 Former Best Friends
Chapter 120 Former Best Friends
Chapter 120 Former Best Friends
"Call me whatever you want," Lillian shrugged lightly, her posture languid and somewhat indifferent. "I don't care."
She picked up the glass of wine in front of Green, took a gentle sniff, and said, "I didn't expect you to know how to enjoy yourself."
"other people-
—
The words came to an abrupt halt.
Lillian tilted her head back slightly and downed the rest of the drink in her glass. Then she put down the glass and squinted at Green.
There seemed to be a hint of amusement in her eyes after careful consideration.
"You're really not being polite—"
Looking at her actions and expression, Green felt a strange emotion welling up inside him.
"Oh, right."
As Lillian spoke, as if she had just remembered something, she took out a thin notebook with a dark brown leather cover from somewhere with her other hand.
She tossed the notebook lightly onto the table, her movements casual. "Perfect, I don't have to knock on your window in the middle of the night anymore."
"Here's some basic information about the Witch's Path that you asked for last time. Of course, it's very basic; after all, the deeper stuff comes at a high price."
Grimm's heart skipped a beat. Information about the Witch's Path!
With this, Emily should be able to reduce the risk of things getting out of control, and her family will be safer.
Although reason told him that handing Emily over to the Church of the Night completely might be safer, it was always good to have more understanding and more preparation.
He almost instinctively reached out to grab the dark brown notebook.
Just as he was about to touch the leather cover, Lillian's hand was a step faster, deftly pulling the notebook back.
She tilted her head slightly, a mischievous smile almost innocent on her face, and parted her red lips: "You haven't said 'thank you' yet, Mr. Green. Basic politeness, isn't it?"
Green's outstretched hand froze in mid-air, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly. He withdrew his hand, his gaze calmly meeting Lillian's teasing look, and said lightly, "Thank you."
"That's more like it."
Lillian seemed satisfied, but did not immediately push the notebook over.
With her other hand, she took out another object carefully wrapped in white sheepskin from somewhere. It was slightly thicker than the notebook, and casually placed it on the notebook.
Here, your gun, I've used it all. I keep my word.
Green looked at the sheepskin package, a hint of surprise flashing through his mind.
He thought the other party would need it for at least a while, but he didn't expect it to be returned so quickly.
"When he opened the sheepskin wrapping and confirmed that it contained the Messenger of Silence," he finally felt completely relieved.
Green took out the small silk pouch he always carried from the inside pocket of his coat.
"This is yours." He placed the small bag on the table and pushed it towards Lillian. The movement was swift and decisive, without the slightest hesitation.
Lillian's eyes lit up instantly, and she almost snatched the silk pouch back into her hand, gently stroking it with her fingertips.
"It seems—you've been carrying it with you all this time?" She leaned forward slightly, lowered her voice, and said condescendingly, "So you care so much about what I gave you? Should I give it to you as a—souvenir?"
Green leaned back almost instinctively and somewhat hastily.
They were so close—Lillian's chest was almost touching his face, and Green could even catch a glimpse of the snow-white landscape out of the corner of his eye.
Green swore he hadn't meant to watch —
The back of the chair pressed against his back, leaving him nowhere to retreat.
Green even felt his cheeks getting slightly hot, and his ears burning, and most importantly—
There are too many people here.
"Lillian! What do you want to do?" Green couldn't help but ask.
He deliberately put on a stern face. "I told you, I only brought it for safety reasons. Your gift," he said, "I can't afford it, nor do I need any keepsakes. If the deal is done, please go ahead. My friend will be back soon."
As he spoke, he gestured towards the table with his eyes. The subtext was clear: We're even, you can leave.
If Clarice saw this, it would definitely become gossip fodder. After all, her enthusiasm for gossip is no less than Erwin's.
Lillian took in his momentary embarrassment and forced composure, but instead of backing away, her smile deepened, a smile that carried the pleasure of a cat playing with a mouse.
She seemed to enjoy catching the other person off guard and breaking the peace. However, she also knew when to stop.
She slowly straightened up and distanced herself again. "How boring, Mr. Green."
She sighed softly and said wistfully, "It seems our friendship needs more time to develop. So—"
"Green?"
Lillian's words were interrupted, and her body stiffened.
A familiar, languid voice sounded from behind Lillian, "And this lady is?"
Lillian slowly turned around, forcing an awkward smile: "Uh, hi~ long time no see~"
"Lillian!!"
Clarice's breath caught in her throat for a moment.
She looked at the familiar yet unfamiliar face before her. The eyebrows, the eyes, the usual upturned smile on the lips—all overlapped with the image of her best friend with whom she had once shared secrets and relied on each other.
But at that moment, all she could see was anger.
The root of her anger wasn't the stolen Tier 3 sealed artifact, "Tears of Tranquility." Although the sealed artifact was important, representing a responsibility, what she hated was the deception.
A complete and meticulously crafted deception that kept her completely in the dark, like a fool.
She was forced to accept the harsh reality only when all the clues irrefutably pointed to Isabella Winston.
Her best friend, whom she thought was just a naive and curious noblewoman with a penchant for the occult, turned out to be not only an extraordinary being but also a member of a secret organization that contradicted the Night's Watch's ideals, and who exploited her trust to steal important items from the Church.
She even considered that if Lillian—if Isabella needed that thing, if she asked, she might hesitate and struggle, but she might be able to find a "reasonable" excuse to temporarily "lend" it.
There could have been another possibility between them.
But Lillian chose the most foolish way.
Steal, then disappear.
She was left alone to face the headquarters' questioning, her own feelings of betrayal, and the torment of being hunted down by her former friends.
"Lillian—" Clarice's voice was soft, even trembling slightly, "—long time no see."
She took a deep breath, looked around, and smiled slightly. "I thought you wouldn't dare show your face again. What? You've come to change your mind? You've come to return your things?"
Lillian's awkward smile froze. She hadn't expected to be so unlucky as to run into an old acquaintance here.
"Clarice, you look well. It seems the little trouble at Fairfax Manor didn't cause you too much trouble."