Operation Red Book

"OK, OK, fine. Then do you know about the puppet tragedy that happened in the Chinese dock area a few months ago?"

"I know, it was Arnold who did it!"

Raphael's chest straightened a little more, and he made "hehehe" sounds with his mouth, shaking his head from side to side, gesticulating towards Ivy with his hands and feet, and mumbling some incoherent phrases.

"Arnold, Satan, soul, puppet, swish, soul, hiss! Hehehe, Golden Hell, hehehe!"

"Okay, okay, okay, I understand, I understand!"

Ivy only heard a few key words. She frowned and stopped Raphael from talking nonsense. She grabbed the apple pie on the table and stuffed it into his mouth.

Raphael ate the apple pie and swung his feet happily back and forth. Ivy suddenly felt tired.

The Red Book says that Raphael manages all the Death Gods in London. He must be a senior in the Death God world, but he always looks like a brainless fool.

Ivy looked at Raphael's purple robe and long purple hair again, as well as the upper half of his face hidden in the hood.

She became curious about Raphael, and curiosity kept driving her. Ivy couldn't wait to know Raphael's background and true appearance.

But Raphael seemed to see through her and covered her mouth before Ivy could ask.

"There is an old Chinese saying: 'The secrets of heaven cannot be revealed'. Don't be curious about God!"

"You asked a lot of questions, I want to ask you some too!"

Ivy shook off his hand irritably, hummed lazily, picked up the black tea on the table and took a sip.

To be honest, Ivy always felt that Raphael could only ask some not-so-smart questions, so she didn't have much hope for him.

"Did you sleep with Dorian?"

"puff--"

Ivy was startled. This sentence was like a bolt of lightning that suddenly struck her, causing her to spit out the black tea in her mouth.

"Hey, hey, hey, look at your face, shame on you! Shame on you!"

Raphael was still clapping and cheering, which made Ivy so angry that she slammed the teacup in her hand on the table.

"What are you talking about? That little devil and I have a contractual relationship, and we both want to kill each other!"

Ivy didn't know if it was because she was choked by the tea or because she was shocked by Raphael's explicit words, but her whole head and neck turned red. She denied it in a hoarse voice, but her heart was beating fast.

In the previous review, Ivy deliberately did not mention Dorian.

It wasn't because she accidentally forgot, but because she didn't know how to face this contract signed with the devil.

Dorian is like an uncertain factor, interfering with the trajectory of human actions. What is the relationship between herself and Dorian? Ivy has never found the answer.

But in the panic explanation just now, Ivy suddenly seemed to have come to her senses and gave herself the answer: it was a relationship bound by a short-term contract, and the two used each other on the line between life and death.

"He is not a little devil, he is more than two thousand years old! Ahhh, time flies! I held him in my arms when he was a child!" Raphael straightened his chest again, and the corners of his mouth curved upwards.

Seeing that Ivy was just drinking tea and not saying anything, Raphael laughed strangely a few times and spread out the brown paper that Ivy had used to sort out the situation on the table.

"I can understand Chinese! You are sleeping with several men here!"

Ivy glanced at him and didn't say much. She saw through Raphael's nonsense.

It was already the late night, and Ivy felt her eyelids were too heavy. Black tea had never been a means of refreshing her.

"If you don't have anything else to do, I'll go back and rest. I have to work, and it's very tiring."

Ivy covered her mouth and yawned, then cleared the teacups and plates.

"I got a death list, and one week later, your name was on it! Hmm, let me think, the responsible Grim Reaper is..."

Ivy stood there in a daze with the food tray in her hand. She couldn't believe her ears and even forgot to breathe.

The surrounding area was like the bottom of a cold ice lake, freezing Ivy in air several degrees below zero.

The high-pitched strange screams continued behind her, but the name was clearly heard by Ivy in the evening breeze:

"Grace Coleman! Hehehehe!"