Twilight watched Yor and Richie disappear into the distance, cold sweat pouring down his forehead.
For some reason, Twilight kept getting the strange impression that Richie had seen through his real identity just now, and had even called him Father.
From the corner, Twilight watched Yor's figure recede into the distance.
On Yor's shoulder, Richie's little head was no longer held upright.
Instead, it bobbed back and forth with every movement she made.
Richie was like a blade of grass, his neck so delicate it could be snapped without any effort.
Only after Yor and Richie disappeared from sight did Twilight rip off his hood, his heart heavy.
Mophead stared after Yor and said with a wry smile, "That was seriously reckless.
But judging by her reaction, she probably has nothing to do with any secret agents!"
As Mophead offered his analysis, Twilight remained silent. Even the air seemed heavy.
"Hey, hey, hey, where are you going? Don't tell me you feel guilty for suspecting her!" With that handsome face on, Mophead was much easier on the eyes, even when he spoke.
"No." Twilight's tone was flat, but his expression had already betrayed his thoughts. "I'm just worried about Richie's health."
"I told you ages ago not to get emotionally involved. If you don't want to die, don't trust anyone."
Mophead's expression darkened, his voice full of earnest warnings for Twilight.
"People like us can only survive that way." Mophead was all smiles in everyday life, but he was truly levelheaded about matters like this.
Twilight's tall figure advanced toward Mophead, step by step. "It makes me uncomfortable when you talk with that face on."
Twilight stopped in front of Mophead, reached out, and ripped the handsome mask off his face, throwing it to the ground.
"Hey, hey, hey, you