I'm Not Great at Holding My Liquor, Either

It happened so fast that no one had time to react. No one had even known this name before; it was only last night that Zhao Bai's file had been placed on Carl's desk.

Of course, the file had been carefully handled by Theresa.

He was just an utterly ordinary student.

"Boss Zhao, if you had to choose the person in charge of the Apocalypse family, who do you think would have the best chance?"

This was, in a sense, a roundabout probe.

How was Zhao Bai supposed to answer?

He only knew two Apocalypses.

"Who else could it be? It has to be the world's cutest Theresa."

He rubbed Bronya's shoulder and answered slowly.

My Drinking Habits Aren't Great Either

Theresa?

That person was in charge of the Far East, practically a ruler appointed far from the center of power. She could never get close to the heart of authority.

Could the Far East possibly compare to European headquarters?

Carl pursed his lips and poured himself a glass of golden wine. The tequila he gave Zhao Bai represented a pioneer, while the champagne he poured for himself represented victory or a wedding. For the moment, Zhao Bai had no idea what that meant.

He was probably extremely confident in himself.

That was not good.

He would get beaten up out in society.

Zhao Bai watched him drain the glass of champagne that represented victory, then placed both hands on the table and slowly spoke.

"To be honest, I hadn't even heard your name two days ago... But you seized the Archbishop's power with lightning speed, and that's how I learned your name." Carl spoke in an inflammatory tone. "Are you willing to let a biohuman stand over your head?"

"..."

"Having someone stand on my head is indeed annoying.