Medici—no!
He should be called Sauron-Einhorn-Medici now.
Originally, he was quite happy to see someone enter these damn ruins again, as it meant his chances of escaping had increased by a fraction.
Moreover, he recognized that three of the people who had arrived this time were the same brats who had poked their heads in at the entrance last time but hadn't dared to go deeper.
Back then, he had intended to directly corrupt one of their minds once they entered the stone door, bewitching them into letting him out—who would have thought those guys would just take a few looks at the entrance and turn around to leave!
He had thought these cowards would never come back, but who would have thought that not even two days later, they would return, bringing along a little brat with the bloodline of the Tudor Family.
So, he quietly followed them and made some arrangements along the way.
In his best-case scenario, he certainly wouldn't let the descendant of the Tudor Family go. As for the other two, if they could be bluffed into obediently helping him escape, that would be best.
If they weren't willing to help, he could continue to wait for an opportunity, or simply use force to capture one of them and threaten the other two.
To leave a lifelong, unforgettable impression on these "Lucky One"s, he specially prepared a dramatic entrance.
Who would have thought that the moment his figure condensed from the shadows, he would see one of the young men slowly take out a monocle from his arms, put it on, and look at him with interest.
Damn—this isn't—
The three mouths on Sauron-Einhorn-Medici's twisted face opened simultaneously, and he stood stunned on the spot.
He trembled subconsciously, and for a moment, he didn't know what he should do.
On the other side, Lorne and the others were also a little confused looking at this suddenly appearing evil spirit.
Originally, the other party's entrance had felt like a final boss appearing in a horror movie, with gloomy winds and arrogant, wild laughter—why did he stop moving as soon as he appeared?
" ■ ■ Evil Spirit—Embedded— "
" — — Intelligence ■ ■—Insufficient— "
What is this!
Although this damaged monocle was indeed not very easy to use, the scattered information identified still made Lorne feel incredulous. The only thing that could be determined was that this guy, who was blood-red all over, was not a "Wraith" like Sharon, but a real evil spirit condensed from obsession and resentment.
Medici did not move, while Lorne, Marich, and Sharon also looked at the other party vigilantly, not daring to relax at all. Even Rafter, who had been following behind, was a little distracted after seeing this evil spirit—which had haunted his childhood nightmares for decades—with his own eyes, and was so scared that he didn't even dare to breathe.
The scene immediately fell into an incomparably weird silence.
After about twenty seconds, Medici swallowed his non-existent saliva and broke the silence first: "Yo, yo—isn't this Little Raven—"
"How come—it's just you?"
"Is that paranoid guy not by your side?"
"Little Raven?"
This strange title left everyone present stunned.
What the hell is Little Raven!?
"Why aren't you talking?" Seeing that the other party didn't react, Medici continued to bite the bullet, saying, "Is it because you remembered that I burned all your hair off back then, so you were too scared to speak? Haha!"
Even though he had fallen to this point, Medici still tried to maintain his last bit of dignity as an elder.
Especially in front of this little brat Amon, whom he had watched grow up, but who ended up stabbing him in the back!
Hearing this, Marich and Sharon subconsciously looked at Lorne. They had already noticed that this powerful evil spirit seemed to be talking to Lorne.
Lorne naturally noticed the gaze cast by his companions.
But he was also a bit confused. He could swear that he absolutely didn't know this red guy in front of him!
Could it be—? He subconsciously reached out and touched the monocle on his right eye.
Could he have mistaken me for someone from the Amon Family?
This monocle was a token of the Amon Family; perhaps that really was the case—Lorne realized this instantly, and his brain rapidly thought of countermeasures.
The strength of this evil spirit was extraordinary. Judging from the feedback from "Premonition of Disaster", his strength was estimated to have reached the demigod level—barely manageable, but it certainly wouldn't be easy. Moreover, the increasingly thick, ominous aura around them also showed that this evil spirit definitely had other arrangements in these ruins.
After thinking about it for a while, Lorne decided to just go along with what the other party said.
"I just didn't expect you to not be dead yet, so I was a little surprised."
"However, in your current appearance, perhaps it would be better if you were dead."
"Hehe."
Looking at the other party's arrogant, unwilling-to-admit-defeat appearance, Lorne chose a tone that he thought was the most appropriate, full of sarcasm and disdain. After all, he was still trying to maintain his dignity even after becoming such a ghost; the "Amon" he knew would definitely not be a polite person.
"You!"
Hearing this, Medici couldn't hold back anymore.
I became what I am today because of you and that damn paranoid guy!
He just wanted to attack.
"Calm down!"
"Calm down!"
The two cheeks on Medici's face actually opened their mouths simultaneously and made different sounds.
"Medici, you brainless idiot! Does angering him now do us any good!" the Sauron on the left whispered.
"Yes, yes," the Einhorn on the right echoed.
"So many years have passed, and the mastermind, Alista Tudor, has been dead for so long. We don't need to be enemies with Amon now," Sauron coaxed, offering his own plan.
"If you beg him for mercy now, maybe if he's happy, he'll let us out!"
"Bullshit! I beg him for mercy? This is probably just a clone of Amon. I beg a clone for mercy? Where is your brain? Oh, right, I forgot, you don't have a brain now!"
Sauron ignored Medici's sarcasm and continued: "You've said so much, it's nothing more than you being unable to let go of your pitiful dignity."
"Compared to getting rid of this miserable situation, what is your insignificant dignity worth?"
"Yes, that's right! Medici, your dignity has long been worthless. It's better to take advantage of the opportunity now and exchange it for some practical benefits," Einhorn also followed up and "advised".
"Annoying! Shut up!"
Looking at the weird ghost floating in the air, talking to himself as if he had a split personality, everyone present showed a certain degree of astonishment.
Especially Rafter, who had been scared to death when he saw this ghost suddenly appear. As a result, when he saw the other party's funny appearance, the fear in his heart dissipated a little, and he even felt a little dumbfounded.
The terrible evil spirit who had killed so many of his clansmen—was this the kind of stuff he was?
Just at this time, Lorne winked at Marich beside him.
The latter understood and blinked, and quietly disengaged the safety of the submachine gun in his hand.
After tens of seconds, Medici and the other three seemed to have finally finished discussing.
He cleared his throat and pretended to be magnanimous: "Cough—you were only an accomplice back then. This Lord—doesn't hate you that much either. If you can let me out, this Lord—doesn't mind forgiving you."
"Uh—" Lorne really didn't know how to answer this for a moment, so he could only ask, "Interesting—then how should I help you?"
Once this was said, Medici fell into silence again.
"—You are not Little Raven," he spoke slowly.
"He is not that easy to talk to."
Lorne's pupils shrank suddenly. He glanced at Marich beside him, and then slowly lowered his head.
"I think—there might have been a little misunderstanding between us."
The next second, he raised his head suddenly, and a black spear suddenly appeared in his hand!
"Da da da da da—"