I'm Not Great at Holding My Liquor, Either (Continued)

Carl was clearly somewhat confused.

"Given that she had taken such good care of you, could Theresa Apocalypse possibly not be a product of genetic experimentation?"

"..."

Such arrogant thinking from an arrogant person.

Zhao Bai frowned as he listened.

Carl poured Zhao Bai another glass of tequila. The pale golden liquor was mixed with sour lemon juice and salt. Zhao Bai did not refuse. It once again felt like knives rolling down his throat. His face was faintly flushed, and he lowered his head as though brewing something.

He was looking for a reason, and alcohol was a very good reason.

"Go on. I'm listening."

Carl had yet to notice what sort of emotions Zhao Bai was brewing. Still brimming with enthusiasm, she went on at length about trifling benefits Zhao Bai did not care about in the slightest. Paired with her inflammatory rhetoric and polished Mandarin, it only became more irritating the longer he listened.

Carl was like a terrible insurance salesperson. "The Archbishop's reach during Otto's era extended far too far, well beyond what an Archbishop should have controlled. You don't seriously think you can keep ruling the empire he built, do you?"

"You're from Shenzhou. Of all its acting presidents throughout history, how many met a good end?"

"Stop."

Zhao Bai cut her off.

"Those acting presidents in Shenzhou all belonged to the party on that treasure island. For the most part, Shenzhou does not even have such a thing as an acting president."

"..."

"Regardless, as a representative of the Apocalypse family, I have shown you a path." Carl's tone was relaxed and witty. "This is the result of the family's discussions. We considered your interests, our interests, and the interests of all Schicksal."

"Go on."

Zhao Bai was not interested in the slightest,