Hearing this, Klein's gaze was nailed firmly to that doll wearing lavish clothes and only the size of a palm.
A transmigrator? A fellow countryman? And he felt he looked familiar?
"Wait, you wouldn't be Emperor Roselle?!"
Klein looked at the miniature doll on the table, the corners of his mouth twitching uncontrollably.
He couldn't help thinking of those wild and uninhibited writings in Roselle's diary, and that explosive thesis of "the Demoness really tastes great".
Hearing this, the doll froze for a moment, and then two short, small arms crossed forcefully at his waist, his chin lifting to an extremely arrogant arc.
"Yo-ho,"
Roselle smiled triumphantly, "It seems I'm still quite famous over here. Even the new little brother has heard of my mighty name?"
Klein's mouth twitched fiercely twice.
This was more than just famous?
This was simply the epitome of social death, alright?
Who in their right mind would keep a diary?
And write the diary into a collection of pornography and rants!
"Alright."
Edwin tapped the table, interrupting Roselle's self-admiration, "Aren't you going to introduce the person behind you?"
He pointed at the tall woman who had been standing to the side, silent and unmoving.
"Oh oh, right right right, almost forgot the main business."
Roselle patted his wooden head, turned around, and pointed at the woman, "Come come come, let me grandly introduce her, this is my daughter, Bernadette."
Then he pointed at Edwin and Klein in succession.
"Good daughter, this is Uncle Edwin I mentioned to you before. As for this one----"
Roselle rubbed his chin, "He's also a person from my hometown, and by seniority, you can just call him uncle too."
Klein almost choked to death on his own saliva.
He widened his eyes and looked at Bernadette, then looked at Roselle.