The Lord Demon King is Unfathomable!

The mist in Roland City always carries a damp coal ash smell, to which Newcastle is very sensitive, as this scent can also be found in his hometown.

The wheels rolled over the slippery cobblestone street, emitting a rhythmic rumble.

Sitting opposite him, Miss Marie Langbane was endlessly complaining about Ryan men's lack of decorum, reminiscing about the good times in Thunder City and the elegance of Debicco, while also expressing jealousy towards his lucky wife.

However, Newcastle wanted to say that mentioning another man's name during a date is in fact considered impolite in Thunder City... even though a person like him doesn't really care about purity.

Whether it be mental or physical.

"I believe you're right, the ladies of Thunder City are indeed overly fortunate... They actually don't deserve the gentlemen of Campbell, conversely, the ladies of Ryan and the gentlemen of Campbell are a match made in heaven."

Newcastle carefully weighed his words, trying to make the illogical monologue sound a bit more plausible to himself.

After all, although people with legs of different lengths are rare, they're not entirely nonexistent... aren't they? Rationally speaking, with a sufficiently precise ruler, one can always measure that minute difference.

Newcastle didn't even realize that he was studying science.

"Haha, you really have a way with words, sir from Campbell."

Watching Miss Marie cover her mouth with a folding fan and giggle, Newcastle showed a gentle smile, striving to display his charming side as much as possible.

The velvet curtains isolated the indecent world outside, leaving only the ambiguous and warm candlelight in this small space.

Their conversation soon shifted to their "shared" interests.

Watching the blushing baron's daughter opposite him, Newcastle's face held the perfect amount of affection and appreciation.

He actually was clueless and uninterested in art, and even learned about the wildly popular "Bell Sound" in Thunder City from Miss Marie's words.

Yet none of this hindered him from being a "seasoned" art connoisseur, for someone like him, weaving stories is effortless.

If seated across from the Grand Duke, he would be the master architect, and Thunder City would be flowing with sweet honey and milk. If facing a drooling goblin, he would be the Duke's imperial chef, and Thunder City would be a mountain of corpses and sea of bones.

What's difficult about that?

Besides, Miss Marie had already revealed her favored menu, he simply needed to disassemble her opinions in the letter, dip them in the honey named "empathy," and rearrange them in a more elegant sentence structure.

Newcastle felt he was truly a born chef—oh no, a politician. He could present correct yet useless blather as if it were divine.

Newcastle regretted that the letter Miss Marie sent wasn't personally written by her, most likely penned by her personal maid.

After all, despite his eloquent speech for so long, the truly emotional Miss Marie remained worshipful.

"...The most moving aspect of Miss Eloise is not her rebellion against anyone, but rather her uncompromising love guarded amidst despair. Such beauty is fragile yet exceptionally thrilling due to its fragility. Like the rose blooming on the cliff's edge you mentioned in your letter."

"Oh... Mr. Newcastle, I didn't expect you to be so delicate."

"I am not delicate, quite the opposite, I am rather broad-stroked—"

"No, no, no, I think you're truly too delicate, haha, and so humble, I truly admire you!"

"Thank you for your admiration..."

Alright.

Seeing those eyes that almost glimmered, Newcastle had to admit that conversing with Miss Marie was indeed a skill.

Her unique empathic ability seemed limited to her own emotions, completely oblivious to the rigidity hanging at the corner of his mouth.

It's hard to say which is more rude, this or loud nose blowing, only that each has its own savagery, and... Saint Sis never crafted two unalike legs for the same person.

Nevertheless, for the sake of his knightly title and tonight's opportunity to prove he is anything but coarse, he decided to continue being a gentleman.

Clueless to the "bare" desire in Newcastle's gaze, Miss Marie was currently immersed in a pink-hued honey brew.

She crossed her hands over her chest, those eyes yet untouched by worldly burdens scintillated with the ecstasy of meeting a kindred spirit.

In this cultural desert of Roland City, the boorish nobles would only speak of hunting dogs and women, only Mr. Newcastle understood what soul resonance meant.

"Oh, Mr. Newcastle... You truly comprehend it."

Marie shyly lowered her head, her gaze inadvertently falling upon Newcastle's chest.

Unlike other Ryan gentlemen, no useless medals adorned there, creatively stacked was a pristine silk handkerchief, with a stylish triangular tip exposed.

"You are simply more gentlemanly than Campbell's gentlemen, this is the first time I see someone place a handkerchief in that position… Is it for decoration?"

Lowering his head, Newcastle glanced at the handkerchief on his chest, the corners of his mouth drawing a witty and charming smile.

"Not entirely, Miss. It's placed here because it's closest to the heart, more importantly..."

He gazed into Marie's captivating eyes.

"Should any beautiful lady's tear fall for that tragic love, the distance from here to your eye corner would be shorter than if pulled from a pocket."

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