Hearing Angel's words, Little Peach's strange dotted brows shot upward, as though she were astonished by Angel's courage.
"You want to perform in front of me?"
Angel nodded. There were many ways to perform. So long as it was not an artistic kind of performance, he could give it a try.
In any case, there was no harm in trying.
Seeing Angel nod, Little Peach's pitch-black eyes revealed a trace of mockery. "You are merely a spark of consciousness right now. Even your external form is only an illusory shell. What kind of performance could you possibly give?"
Angel said, "I can bring my body over."
Little Peach turned her head away. "I cannot wait that long. I took time out of my busy schedule to follow fate on its wanderings."
"My time is already running short. I still have to go back and interview those prospective actors."
Angel asked, "Interview prospective actors? Do you work at a theater?"
Little Peach snorted. "If you want to know, then let her satisfy my request."
After saying that, Little Peach's strange peach face no longer faced Angel, but turned toward Laplace.
Clearly, the matter had returned to the Origin Point.
Little Peach did not want to watch Angel perform. Moreover, Angel currently only possessed a false body, so he could not put on any earth-shaking performance.
Thus, the performance she wanted to see—the performance she was anticipating—was still only Laplace's "Whale Siphon."
When Laplace saw Little Peach looking at her, she fell silent for a moment before saying, "Devouring memories like a whale does not seem to count as a performance, does it?"
When Little Peach had made this request before, Laplace had not even been bothered to respond. Even though Little Peach carried a mysterious aura and was highly likely to