"Crown Prince Midir is like this."

"Your Majesty Kessel, the same is true."

Hearing the familiar name, Thales frowned fiercely.

He stared at the other party:

"What if...I can't do it?"

The Black Prophet smiled.

"You can do it."

Morat moved the wheelchair and turned his back to the prince.

"You can do it from the moment you return home."

"You have already prepared it."

"It's just the final touch."

He said sadly:

"It's just that you are too cautious, too fearful, and too wary of its unpredictable power and possible consequences."

Thales gritted his teeth, his thoughts uncertain.

After a few seconds, he suddenly raised his head and looked at the back of the Black Prophet.

"I do not like you."

"I know," Morat said without looking back.

"But as I said, it doesn't matter whether you like me or not."

"What's important is that if you don't like me, you can transcend the established position between me and you," the old man said slowly:

“With you in control, real effectiveness comes.”

Thales' expression changed slightly.

Morat took a deep breath, moved the wheelchair, and prepared to leave.

At this moment.

"Are you going to be lonely?"

Black Prophet made a move.

He saw Thales casting his gaze behind him:

"Lord Hanson, you said before that it has been a long, long time since I met someone who can feel at ease in front of you without any burden, and who is not afraid of lying to you."

"That feeling must be very lonely."

Morat did not speak, only his back was silent.

"So……"

Thales' tone changed slightly:

"The Scarlet Witch."

At that moment, Thales saw the black veined vines on the Black Prophet's wheelchair trembling.

"It is said that Ms. Kashan, who can deceive you, is not afraid of people who lie to you...is she one of them?"

Morat remained silent, only the black-veined vines squirmed back and forth, becoming more and more joyful.

The atmosphere in the interrogation room became very delicate.

After a few seconds.

"Please forgive me, I am old and have limited energy."

"I'm going to rest first," Black Prophet remained motionless, but the demonic vines on his knees began to stir horribly, covering the wheel and dyeing it into endless pitch black:

"Raphael, entertain His Highness well and make him feel at home."

Thales turned his head in surprise, and then realized that Raphael was already standing at the door without knowing it.

The Desolate Skeleton Man bowed respectfully.

Morat's wheelchair, covered by dark vines, rolled strangely and alarmingly, carrying him forward and disappearing outside the door.

The interrogation room returned to tranquility and relaxation.

Thales stared blankly in the direction in which the Black Prophet left.

"So, his wheelchair can actually move on its own."

He murmured:

"There's no need for me to push."

Raphael came to his side and smiled:

"Sometimes, some people may need a little push."

Thales sighed.

"How did you get along with him after all these years?"

Raphael raised his eyebrows and looked at the door where the Black Prophet disappeared.

"He said," the Desolate Skeleton Man said calmly:

"And I listen."

Thales hummed with a gloomy expression:

"I guess so."

Raphael smiled easily and gestured to the door:

"As I said, when you get to the secret department, you will only feel more uncomfortable."

The prince sighed and followed Raphael out of the interrogation room.

"Belicia, is that girl gone?"

With mixed emotions, Thales walked past the portrait of Princess Theodora of "The Glory Star" ("I didn't even look at you, you are scolding me, you are a narcissist!"—— Thales's inner incompetence was angered by the small theater), and asked one after another.

Raphael nodded:

"What, you want to be gentle with her for a while longer?"

Thales frowned and looked at him with dissatisfaction on his face.

Raphael smiled easily and raised his hands to express surrender.

Thales glanced at him and snorted:

"But you...Cohen?"

"He will be fine," Raphael said without blushing or breathing, without any shame, "when she realizes that he is not me."

"But you won't," Thales said coldly with a hint of arrogance, "when he realizes that you sold him."

"It doesn't matter," Raphael said, completely unburdened and relaxed:

"He's used to it."

"Besides, Cohen..."

Raphael paused slightly, curved his mouth, and thought about what he wanted to say:

He can't beat me.

"Raphael."

The two walked in silence for a while, and Thales suddenly spoke:

"Do you do this often?"

"Wipe your butt for me...?"

Raphael frowned and turned back.

"Morat said that I have always been incompatible with the secret science - we always go our own way, and there is no communication between us." Thales said quietly.

"I brought you... a lot of trouble?"

Raphael sighed slightly.

"Probably." He responded casually without saying anything else.

Thales sneered slightly.

Is it.

"But it's not all trouble, right? I should... be of some help?"

Thales thought about the "mess" he saw today and the "butt" the secret department wiped for him.
To be continued...