Why were her people everywhere? Just how many more hidden subordinates did Lady Witch have?
Ava and Sitwell exchanged a glance, each seeing profound shock and sympathy in the other's eyes.
They shook their heads in unison, silently observing three seconds of mourning for a certain conceited artificial intelligence that was probably still in the dark.
Poor Ultron.
How could your power over the internet possibly compete with Lady Witch's network of insiders?
Hermione watched their colorful expressions and nodded in satisfaction before leisurely explaining:
"Within the Witch Cult, aside from me, the Supreme Witch, there are also the Seven Sin Archbishops, whose positions are second only to mine. The woman before you, Agatha Harkness, is my Archbishop of Greed."
Sitwell's eyes instantly went round. His expression changed as swiftly as a Sichuan Opera mask change, the shock of a moment ago vanishing without a trace and giving way to almost reverent admiration.
He darted up to Agatha and bowed deeply, his tone outrageously effusive:
"Oh! So you're Lady Greed! I've long admired you! My admiration for you is like a mighty river, flowing on without end..."
His sudden enthusiasm caught Agatha off guard. Then a teasing smile curled her lips, and she picked up where he left off:
"...And like the Mississippi bursting its banks, utterly unstoppable?"
"Exactly, exactly!" Sitwell nodded vigorously, his face blooming into a smile. "It seems we truly understand each other, Lady Agatha! We've only just met, yet I feel as though we're old friends. What a connection!"
A vein twitched at Hermione's temple. Unable to stand watching the pair any longer, she rolled her eyes and interrupted irritably:
"Enough, Duolong. If you two want to sacrifice a rooster, burn some yellow paper, and become sworn siblings, you can take your time bonding after I