Andre looked rigid and old-fashioned, like a bookworm, but in Rooney's memories, he had been nothing of the sort.
His pursuit of women had far surpassed even Rooney's. Perhaps he had inherited a researcher's fastidiousness; the women he wanted always had to be refined to the utmost.
He remembered that even if a woman had the slightest birthmark, no matter how beautiful she was, Andre would never touch her.
At this moment, Li Ziran still saw the image of the man reclining on a sofa piled high with women, smiling calmly as he spoke with great eloquence.
Though the three of them were considered to be in the same camp, Andre and Rooney were not especially close. Most of the time, Feng had been the one bridging the gap between them.
Andre was somewhat aloof, while Rooney was more worldly and calculating. Their ideals differed sharply.
If not for profit binding them together, they might never have crossed paths in their entire lives.
Li Ziran was glad that his consciousness had transferred back from the flea. Points of light flashed continuously, clearly in the midst of teleportation, and the place he arrived at was obviously the very center of the Derivative Space.
Light!
What entered his sight were streaks of light, swimming slowly through the empty night sky like tadpoles. It was quite peculiar. These rays seemed bound here, occasionally even reversing direction.
He had seen them before, in Rooney's memories—the kind that had been carefully stored away—but nothing nearly as shocking as what lay before him.
These lights, some fast and some slow, formed a gigantic Goat. At the Goat's turning points were sun-like patches of light, trembling faintly as scattered motes were squeezed out of the magic array and vanished into nothingness.
Li Ziran laughed inwardly. The light