Mordred had always believed that the best way to deal with twisted people was to beat them up. If one beating was not enough, then give them two.
As long as your fists flew fast enough, all that self-inflicted internal strife and emotional twisting became nothing but clouds in the sky. They just needed a good beating!
And Perturabo was not the only one like this. Every single Primarch was a problem child. Their mouths were only good for breathing, not talking. Just like the Emperor—truly deserving of being blood-related!
"No, I'm the exception."
Hearing Mordred suddenly blurt that out, Perturabo thought that this guy really was mentally ill. One moment he was giggling like an idiot, the next his face turned dark and gloomy. He was like a goddamn lunatic, enough to twist anyone into knots.
More importantly, this person was her Second Brother, and she could not beat him. Having a brother like this, she really must have had terrible luck for eight lifetimes.
Afraid that this guy would pull another Abstract Maneuver, Perturabo hurriedly said, "Mor... Second Brother!" With a huge blade suddenly appearing at her throat, Perturabo hastily changed her words. "Second Brother, we'll be at my home soon. Could you please act like a normal person for once? Otherwise, I'll be terribly embarrassed."
"Tsk, Pepe, you really hurt me. Do you see your Second Brother as some kind of crazy bastard? Don't worry. When it comes to pretending to be human, I have plenty of experience. Besides, as long as all the witnesses are eliminated, my secret will not leak. You wouldn't make things difficult for me, would you?"
To prove that he was telling the truth, Mordred retracted his two pairs of Bone Wings, and his two extra arms shrank back into his body.