❝ 𝐌𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰. ❞
A guy who unfortunately met his death and faced the infamous truck that caused his transmigration.
Very typical, right? The only issue here is that he...
I remained dignified as I stared at the face-painting design on my face. It wasn't properly alligned to the cheeks and to the eye of my left face, much to my dismay.
But I don't have the conscience to say anything rude to the old man either, he was even all smiles and seems proud of his work that I sealed my lips instead of complaining. I respect elderly people so much that I can't even dare to complain.
I sighed, covering my face. "It's fine. The old man must be really getting older, but still has the passion to do his job."
Eldest sneered. "A talentless passion, indeed."
"Rude deity." I commented, making her laugh. Geez, I guess not all deity are somewhat the same to the angelic types or something.
Roaming my eyes around, I scanned the whole place again. The face-painting stall is a 7/10 for me. Now where should we go next?
"Let's go there." Eldest suggested as she pulled me along by the arm.
"Where to?"
She grinned. "A better place than face painting." Without warning, we teleported inside a stall where some mysterious stuffs are properly arranged on a shelf. Is this some 2nd hand book selling?
I gave Eldest a suspicious stare. "Are you sure you teleported to the right place?" There's no telling if this is really the place she claimed to be better than the stall from the face painting earlier.
"Weren't you just thinking about your so-called-family with a problematic expression?" She replied, which confused me for a moment.
Turning to me, she gestured for the books. "Have the fun of your life answering your curiousity about this world, Clydeur."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I froze on the spot, before roaming my eyes around to check if there are other people around who may have heard her statement. So far, it was only us inside. Where is the owner anyway?
Shaking my head, I focused on the main problem. "What do you mean?" I asked, masking away my nervous self. Is she able to pick up suspicions about my origin like she did on my premonition back then?
If you don't remember, you can check Chapter 30.
"You know full well what I mean," she replied, leaning her back on a shelf, a book floating in her hand as it flipped the pages on air. "Aren't you curious what this world is? Who Clydeur is? Who are the people of this world?"
From her words, I knew to myself that she already knows. She must be reading my mind since the beginning. So there's no point in lying or trying to find a way out of this conversation. The question is: Since when?
