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49.57% Days as a Spiritual Mentor in American Comics / Chapter 2035: Chapter 1371: Feast Mystery (End)_3

บท 2035: Chapter 1371: Feast Mystery (End)_3

Shiller came to a stop, looking into Stark's eyes. Stark still stood in place, waiting for an answer. Shiller, studying his honey-brown eyes, gave a smile and said:

"Sometimes, a chess game needs not a brilliant move, but a commonplace one."

"Bang!"

A chess piece fell behind Shiller.

As the light grew brighter, the spaceship of the Shia Empire landed at the Asgard Star Port, with the flame from its engine gradually extinguishing.

Standing by the window, a somewhat weary Shiller rubbed his eyes and thought: it's strange, the Shia Empire arrived so early.

While pondering, Shiller got dressed and left his room.

Soon, a puff of grey mist appeared at the turn of the fourth floor of the guest room. Shiller transformed back into his human form, standing in the shadow at the corner, silently waiting. About ten minutes later, a figure walked into the public washroom, and he followed suit.

Standing in front of the mirror at the washroom's sink, Shiller pulled out a non-existent phone, raising his voice: "Oh my god, you wouldn't believe what I just saw! You know the queen of the Shia Empire, right?"

"Yes, I just met her. Guess where I saw her? Outside a human's guest room!"

"I'm absolutely positive. As soon as she got off the spaceship, after leaving the King of Asgard, she headed straight for a human's bedroom..."

"Exactly, it's deep into the night of Asgard now. Do you think the queen could... oh right, perhaps I'm making a mountain out of a molehill. Humans are so weak, barely able to leave their home planet. How could the queen of the Shia Empire have anything to do with a human?"

"...How would I know? But I did hear the butler at the door saying that the human's name was Xavier or something. I don't quite get their pronunciation, but I think that's right."

"Sigh, what a pity. I thought I'd stumbled upon a sensational piece of gossip. If the queen really were cheating, with her power, she could probably divorce her current husband easily. He would certainly have no way of stopping her..."

"Never mind, I'll head back to my room first. I'll call you later."

After speaking, Shiller glanced at the washroom cubicle and then stood in front of the mirror, revealing a smile. The face reflected in the mirror turned to look at the chessboard behind him.

"Tony, a perfect murder doesn't come from the killer's noble status, intelligent mind, powerful magic, or close cooperation. It only comes from a heart on the brink of...evil."

"Bang!"

The chess piece behind Shiller rammed into the queen's statue in the center of the chessboard. With a sound of "clatter", the statue shattered.

Amid the fragments scattered on the ground, Stark abruptly turned his head and saw the face of the killer's chess piece—it was the husband of the queen of the Shia Empire.

The bathroom lights suddenly flared up. Lilandra, under the blinding light, saw her husband's face twisted with anger, jealousy, and frustration, grotesquely morphing into a monster.

"How could you..."

Lilandra was interrupted when a bolt of lightning, constructed of divine power, struck her chest, knocking her back onto the washbasin. She stared, uncomprehending, at the charred wound on her chest.

The glow of divine power flash again, and the entire bathroom was enveloped in soundproofing magic. The queen was too weak to resist.

"You damn harlot!" The husband reached out with the fierce, hawk-like claws, characteristic of males of the aristocratic Ferocious Feather Tribe. With the main three fingers of his claw, he made a swift slashing motion across Lilandra's face.

"Ah!!!"

"I knew it... I knew it!!!" The husband muttered through gritted teeth, his breath ragged. He looked at Lilandra furiously, and said, "I knew your feelings for that human hadn't ended... I knew it!"

As he spoke, his fingers started to tremble. Suddenly, his expression changed to one of fear. Kneeling beside Lilandra, he pleaded in a teary voice, "Lilan, Lilan, Your Majesty the Queen, forgive me. I am the one who loves you the most. Please forgive me..."

"You even held a grand wedding for a lowly human; the Ferocious Feather Tribe remember well your twenty-day celebration. And yet, you appeased me with a mere paltry trip. You damn harlot!"

The husband's expression twisted again as he inserted his trembling hand into Lilandra's charred chest. As he gasped for breath, he said, "Don't blame me... don't blame me, Lilandra. This is the tradition of the Ferocious Feather Tribe. As your husband, I have the right to punish my unfaithful wife... to tear out your heart. It's a husband's right..."

"You would have divorced me to marry that human. You never thought that I would become the laughingstock of the entire galaxy!" Almost screaming now, the husband's hand plunged deeper, and Lilandra was already struggling to breathe.

"Forgive me... forgive me... this is the only way to restore our honor. Lilan, Lilan, forgive me..."

"Splat!"

The bathroom lights slowly dimmed, and with a "hum" sound, a wormhole opened. Magneto, who emerged from the wormhole, lowered his gaze upon the sight of the queen's body and the blood on the ground.

In the same space but at different times, Star-Lord Quill, armed with a sword, and Strange, in possession of the Eye of Agomoto who had traveled across the timeline, stood at the same position, staring at the queen's body. Their faces gradually converged, and the same sentence echoed in the washroom.

"Did someone beat us to it?"

After all the figures had disappeared, another figure entered the washroom. An Asgardian butler gently touched the queen's body, saying, "May the queen of the gods bless you."

Then, he used divine power to evaporate the blood. Lifting the body, he came to the railings of the atrium on the seventh floor.

"Bang!"

A body fell from the sky.

It was the queen of the Shia Empire. When she hit the ground, her blood and the hem of her dress burst open on the ground, blooming like a gold and red flower.

Amid the hurried rhythm of the dance, the setting was as usual, black and white taking their places.

Shiller's gray eyes seemed to swallow all the flowing light. When he looked at Stark across the body, he didn't smile as usual, but took a glass of wine from a waiter nearby. Raising his glass to Stark, he toasted him from afar.

They had never been so close, yet never so far away.

Stark, this fledgling, proved the existence of the wind with every fall and flap of his wings during his lonely journey.

And the best way to acknowledge it was to raise a glass toast in the vast sky, amidst the endless stars. To toast the detective, to toast the killer.

Here's to the friend who knows him better than anyone, standing behind him as he fights the waves in this tumultuous storm.


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