Chapter 1137 - 916: Uriel Sealed by the Evil God’s Protection. Siren’s Divine Temple

Chapter 1137: Chapter 916: Uriel Sealed by the Evil God’s Protection. Siren’s Divine Temple

Although Uriel is a straight man, he knows the limits of interaction. Having just arrived, how could he possibly have an advanced Dancing Girl, possibly even an adopted daughter of a noble family, accompany him on a night outing?

Having achieved the purpose of the conversation, he decisively declined: "I appreciate the lady’s kindness, but I don’t need it. Please rest, lady."

The maid also advised: "That’s right, Amy, go ahead and rest."

Amy seemed somewhat unwilling: "Alright then..."

Uriel left the Count’s Mansion, and let out a breath of relief.

On a small scale, the Eye of Omniscience valves inserted in the Count’s Mansion can monitor the mansion’s activities around the clock, and eventually, it will uncover the initial curry that blocked the toilet and more secrets of the Count’s Mansion.

On a broader scale, even if Sela has accumulated millions of Privilege Points in the desert ruins, it might be hard to swallow an entire city, and while assisting her, I also need to establish my own base in Black Iron City.

In contrast, the task assigned to me by the Andariel family is actually the least important.

While walking in the Night Market streets, a certain Eye of Omniscience suddenly transmitted a surveillance sound: "This little bitch..."

Hmm!? I’m about to eavesdrop!

Uriel got instantly excited, stepping back a few paces. After all, the Ten Lords’ common greatest hobby is eavesdropping on surveillance!

This voice is clearly from just now, the maid, and the ’little bitch’ obviously refers to...

Then another unfamiliar voice came: "Can you keep it down, you wake me up every time?"

"What can I do? This little bitch plays until dawn every night, and I have to stay up until she returns to serve her. How about you swap shifts with me tomorrow?"

"If you wash the clothes and bedding for me, I’ll swap shifts with you!"

"Forget it!"

"Originally, this little bitch was the one who washed these. She really has a good life..."

"Are you guys going to sleep or what?"

...

Uriel recognized it; this was the low-level maid dormitory where several girls lived together. So, the seemingly glamorous and pampered Amy is actually quite envied. That’s the significance of placing surveillance — hearing the most confidential information, and having the chance to inform Amy and easily deal with her.

Uriel was addicted, stepping back further to try to hear more. But the maid dormitory gradually fell silent, yielding no further sounds.

Uriel adjusted other "valves" and sure enough, heard another voice: "Master, she came back! That plumber is gone too."

They’re discussing me! This location should be the Count’s room, and this form of address should be the Countess in the gossip mingling with the guard captain!

Uriel focused all his Spirit on listening.

Only a middle-aged man’s muffled voice said: "Sleep."

The Countess complained angrily: "That little bitch is wild every day; so many strange things and disasters at the mansion this past month; I can’t stand it!"

The middle-aged man said in a deep voice: "Be patient! Have you forgotten what the Astrology Old Lady prophesied for her? The brighter the future, the more obstacles appear, which is also a trial for our family! Soon, less than half a year, she’ll be 13 and of age. Once she’s successfully selected as a concubine, our family will prosper!"

Uriel was truly astounded; he’d always thought they were cultivating the strongest Dancing Girl, but the goal turned out to be a concubine selection! However, that’s logical; as expensive as a Dancing Girl may be, it’s like that — selecting a concubine could bring future prospects to the family.

The Countess was furious: "What if she doesn’t meet the concubine selection criteria in half a year?"

"Impossible! Do you know who she’s been associated with these nights? These people all believe she can succeed. If so many people work together, plus our efforts, she’ll definitely be selected!"

The Countess asked again: "What about this plumber?"

They’re discussing me again! They indeed know I’m no ordinary person!

The Count replied in a deep voice: "Be patient! Sleep!"

The Countess gave a cold snort and then there was no more talking from the room.

Uriel felt conflicted and uncomfortable. Anyway, as long as surveillance is present, there’ll be news sooner or later.

This dilemma made sleeping more difficult, so going offline at the Night Rose Tavern didn’t seem worthwhile. Where to wander?

Suddenly, Uriel remembered the Broken Bottle Tavern on Dark Alley Street, the headquarters of Sela’s Chamber of Commerce, where there’s also an enigmatic Evil God as the Guardian God. Sela’s actually too busy, so time spent with her is short.

Since he was bored anyway, why not check if she’s around and chat a bit.

Uriel entered the Dark Alley District. The night was filled with drunken hooligans and wandering thugs.

Not wanting trouble, Uriel hugged the wall as he walked. According to the rules of Hell’s Lost Paradise, hugging the wall signifies weakness, harmlessness.

But adhering to the wall got him targeted: "Where’s this rat from?"

Uriel grew agitated; the rules are different, huh, preying on the weak? As one of the Ten Lords, showing weakness feels like self-denial, so let’s fight! After all, my goal is to establish a base, so why not take advantage of now to fight through!

Uriel didn’t hesitate, charging forward with a punch!

A burst of yellow light exploded before his eyes, turning Yellow Name!

Then the entire street was alerted, thugs converging from all directions.

Uriel, unafraid, fought against the odds, turning yellower with every move; then a flash of red, turning Red Name!

Damn Fak!

Uriel had no choice but to fight his way toward the Broken Bottle Tavern. In the gang areas, taverns are designated places where Red Name can be washed off. Either patiently waiting or spending money to have the tavern settle it.

Once inside the tavern, Uriel immediately took a seat at the bar: "Shopkeeper, send over your most expensive drink!"

This is the unwritten rule on the streets; once you order in a tavern, you’re considered a customer, and no one can pursue or attack inside — otherwise, it’s damaging the tavern’s reputation. Ordering the most expensive drink marked you as a preferred customer, ensuring the tavern’s utmost protection.

Indeed, the thugs outside rushed in furiously but did nothing.