They say great minds think alike. At that moment, the clown and Fu Qian looked like two thugs passing judgment on a youngster.
And their final verdict was that the youngster was hopeless, their disappointment unmistakable.
"How could you..."
As for the person being judged, he clearly couldn't accept the sudden turn of events—or understand why the clown could still move.
"Don't interrupt."
Unfortunately, the clown merely waved a hand, not even interested in letting him join the conversation.
The next moment, the mummy made of white Long Feather fell silent for good.
Not only that, its body had already been rapidly coming apart, as if it would soon vanish on the wind. But that process came to an abrupt halt.
"Even in this situation, your first instinct was to run instead of taking a risk to figure out what was happening, then looking for a chance to drive a wedge between the two of us. You really are painfully mediocre."
Fu Qian clearly understood why the body had been coming apart.
Seeing that things had gone wrong, Death Angel had decisively prepared to flee. That hadn't even been his real body, but he didn't want to leave behind so much as a trace of a projection.
He'd even used his speech as cover to make his escape less conspicuous. He'd probably never intended to hear the answer to the question.
"Other than his rank, there's almost nothing about this guy that makes him better than the Lord. Maybe he's even more conceited?"
Fu Qian didn't hold back as he delivered his scathing assessment, comparing A'wei to the Lord from before.
"Heh... how did you know I could hear you?"
The clown gave a low chuckle. He clearly didn't mind Fu Qian judging his former boss that way. Instead, he