Mythology Rebooted
Chapter 1269 - 429: Austin: Master Wayne

Chapter 1269: Chapter 429: Austin: Master Wayne

May 17th, Lundan Airport.

A black car drove out of the airport, heading towards the Dark Saintess Manor.

The mistress of the manor was Anastasia, accompanied by her bodyguard Vizi. Neither were talkative people, and adding the perpetually silent Sukra made a trio—perfect for Wayne to crash their card games whenever he wished.

The so-called Saintess of the Death Church had completely checked out. After completing her mission, she embraced a life of laziness, devouring indulgence without a shred of ambition left in her.

Upon hearing that Wayne intended to "sponsor" her with luxury cars, lavish estates, endless debauchery, and an unending stream of spending money—use it how you want, buy whatever you please—she could only nod fervently in agreement.

Reflecting on her past hardships, tears involuntarily streamed down her face in two glistening lines.

Wayne mocked Sukra for being a slacker with zero ambition. Unbothered, Sukra fired back: she had worked hard for half her life, so why shouldn’t she slack off for a bit? Besides, it wasn’t like she’d eaten her fill at Wayne’s expense.

Oh wait, she *had.* Living in Wayne’s house, spending Wayne’s money, and relying on Wayne for personal safety.

Dark Saintess Manor.

In Sukra’s terrified gaze, Wayne seized Moonlight in his arms and delivered a passionate kiss.

The Goddess of Death sprang upright in the Divine Nation, while Rone went off on some guerrilla skirmish. Sukra, meanwhile, shouted futilely for help—a cry to heaven went unanswered, a cry to earth unheeded. Apart from summoning the rogue elements of the Death Church, no one would come to her aid.

Given that, there was no reason to hold back.

"See that? This is the price of living in my house. The money doesn’t come for free." Wayne raised a wry brow.

Sukra’s face turned pale as a ghost. She tried to rise from the soft, plush sofa but hadn’t taken more than a step before sinking right back down.

So be it!

She had completed her mission. When the Goddess returned, she’d resign, her contributions duly recorded in the annals of merit. From then on, she’d embrace life as an unmotivated salted fish, endlessly reclining in comfort and peace.

Wayne’s offer was just that good—supporting her for a lifetime, free from material want and with a sense of security. Could there be a more fitting candidate to take over?

If he dared to touch her, she would simply refuse to go.

Besides, this sofa was just absurdly comfortable!

Sukra: (๑´∀｀๑)

Wayne, thoroughly disgusted, flipped a hand. "Anastasia, look after this salted fish for me." Sukra’s true colors now laid bare—on the bright side, she was calm and serene; on the downside, crushed under pressure, she was utterly done with trying.

People like her posed no threat. Keep her housed and fed, and she’d basically manage herself.

That was Wayne’s opinion. Vizi, however, felt differently. Tasked by Wayne to protect Anastasia, she devoted herself wholly to the Saintess’s safety. Despite her resolve, the specter of sudden death left her deeply uneasy.

Considering the erratic actions of their Goddess, Vizi strongly suspected that the Goddess of Death herself had descended into the fray.

In the past, Vizi would have done everything possible to contact her superiors. But now? Wedged precariously between two bosses, she could only sigh over how soul-crushing it was to be "the dog" in all this.

"Well, that’s that. I have something *very* important to handle. Once I’m done, I’ll come find you." Wayne planted a kiss on Anastasia to say goodbye, taking Secretary Mona and Isabella off to Lando Manor.

————

Lando Manor.

In the study, Austin stood silently by the window, looking down at a trash bin chasing Monica across the lawn. The manic cackling of something nearby sent several dark lines tracing down his previously composed face.

If he had any other choice, he’d never in a million years accept such an inheritor.

Out on the lawn, Wayne rushed forward with a quick stride, scooping up the fleeing Monica and lifting her high above his head.

"Monica, lift you higher!"

The black cat squirmed desperately, acting just like a terrified, ordinary kitten, swiping her claws at Wayne in a frenzied attack.

Thick-skinned as he was, he didn’t feel a thing.

Standing behind him, Secretary Mona pulled out a camera, ready to capture embarrassing blackmail material on the supposedly aloof Goddess.

Embarrassment, like love, was unpredictable—too loose and it dissipates; too tight and it suffocates. Often, you’d work endlessly at it only to wind up with nothing to show for it.

In short, snapping a photo of the Goddess in a humiliating pose wasn’t so simple. Monica refused to cooperate; the second she hit the ground, she darted as far from Wayne as possible.

Frustrated, Wayne called for his #1 poop-scooping officer, Megan, asking her to help coax Monica.

Megan: (눈_눈)

In her blunt assessment, embarrassment was like love—how could she possibly manage Monica’s when even her own love life hadn’t gotten a response?

Wayne spent ages causing a ruckus on the lawn, only to wind up with zero photos. The moment he loosened his grip, Monica darted behind Megan.

Her fur puffed up, she bared her fangs and claws, expressing just how aggressive she was.

Monica: ฅ(=•ェ•=)ฅ

Wayne became increasingly tempted, itching to grab her and give her another pet.

He had tested it; there were no signs of death emanating from Monica. She seemed entirely like any ordinary black cat, absent of any traces of the Goddess of Death’s consciousness.

Unlike the deathly sense interwoven with Sukra, or even Yuliya, there were no signs linking Monica to the Goddess of Death’s presence. If it weren’t for Rone spilling the beans, Wayne would never think to associate Yuliya with the Goddess of Death.

In other words, Monica’s situation boiled down to two possibilities.

The first: she’s a black cat cursed by death, imbued with immortality and powers of enchantment, capable of altering the subconscious thoughts of others.

Utterly ridiculous—immediate reject.

The second: Monica, like Yuliya, was another incarnation of the Goddess of Death—her consciousness irrevocably fused to her current host.

Wayne pondered taking Monica back to Wayne Manor to raise her. However, he couldn’t be the one to suggest it. It had to come from Austin, so he could name the price accordingly—and to preempt Austin from doing the same to him.

Such was the world of adults!

Wayne thrived in the chaos on the lawn for quite some time, shouting theatrically amidst the commotion. Meanwhile, the mansion of the great young lady lay deathly silent—no Dragon Lady popping her head out for a look.

Wayne thought for a moment—tonight might be the perfect time for a surprise inspection.