The Supreme Satanic System

Chapter 47 Killing Intent
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"Wow!" the lady exclaimed, gazing enviously at the vehicle.

A lanky youth got out of the vehicle, opening the side door of the driver's seat. "Hi, good afternoon!" he greeted, beaming.

The lady sitting over the recreational chair jumped to her feet, bolted toward the youth, and hugged him tightly. "Hi, Bobby! Good to see you again." "You smell great!" she sniffled over his neck.

Bobby hugged her, too. "Margeret, you smell great, too."

"Where have you been?" Margaret White poured out all her emotions. "You know I miss you so much."

"Mm-hmm," Bobby responded.

The two separated, and she asked with over elation, pointing at the vehicle, "Don't tell me this red beauty over there is not yours?"

"Eh, it's mine. Wanna go inside?"

"Yes, of course. Who won't?" Margaret chuckled and hopped in the car together with Bobby. "This thing is really amazing. Did they give you this as a part of your job?" she asked, observing the interior design of the vehicle.

"No, someone gifted this to me," Bobby replied. "Are uncle and aunt in the house?"

"No, I'm all alone the whole time. And I'm almost bored to death. Can you bring me somewhere good?" Margaret asked, giving him a puppy look.

"Yep, why don't we give a tour of the whole city? Maybe we can find a good mall, do some shopping, and later let's have dinner in a fine restaurant." Bobby suggested.

"Even better. What are you waiting for? Drive!" Margaret agreed.

"No, we are not going with this baby. It'll attract unnecessary attention." Bobby stated, and got out of the car. He waited outside for several minutes and finally said, "Alright, come out now. You can drive it anytime later. It's not going anywhere."

Margaret came out too, looking at it like the most precious thing she had ever seen. Then the two walked out of their home, holding their hands. They began strolling around the city. A few hours later, they were in Aphrodite city's bustling nightlife after leaving their neighborhood. There was a lot of noise everywhere they went, and they saw people filling every nook and cranny.

Soon after, the two found a luxurious mall, went on a shopping spree, and later, they entered a French restaurant nearby on the corner of the street.

After entering, a middle-aged, neatly shaven man welcomed them warmly with the utmost professional courtesy. "Good evening, monsieur[1]!" "Bonjour, mademoiselle. Bienvenue[2]," he said, slightly tilting his body toward them, extending one hand elegantly with a polite salute. With traditional waiter uniforms; black pants, a black vest over the white shirt, a black bow tie, and an impeccable pair of shoes, he conveyed an air of elegance.

His well-manners also amazed both Bobby and Margaret, and they saw an air of seriousness around him, but in a very likable way. The two of them returned his greetings with amiable smiles. He brought them to an empty table lying in the room's corner. The interior of the room was not big, neither small, elegantly decorated with green wallpaper, and lighted in an ambiance fluorescent. There were around ten well-decorated luxurious-looking portable roundtables.

Bobby and Margaret take their seat unceremoniously. They looked around inside the cafeteria and noticed that all the tables had already been occupied long before.

"Bobby, I think we are ?out of place." Margaret hushed, but the waiter standing calmly beside them could clearly hear her.

"What is it?" Bobby moved his head closer to her. Then Margaret whispered something in his ear.

"Eh, we are already inside the restaurant. It doesn't matter." Bobby replied, calming her down.

"Anything wrong, mademoiselle?" the waiter asked in heavily accented English.

"Nah, it's nothing to worry about," Bobby replied with a smile. "She is just worried that we are the only customers here wearing casual dresses." It turned out Margaret came to know that everyone around them was well dressed formally.

"Worry not, mademoiselle. We accept every customer who walks into our restaurant. There is no particular dress code for the customer." The waiter explained and gave a similar booklet each to them. "Today's specials are all on the menu. Shall I describe them?"

"No need. We can choose ourselves." Bobby replied. Then the two read the menu and discussed it between them and finally, Bobby made their orders. "Can we have two plates of steak frites[3] and a bottle of Mourvedre[4]?"

"Two plates of steak frites and a bottle of Mourvedre." The waiter noted in a diary as he repeated word-after-word, put it back in his pants pocket, and said, "Good choice, monsieur. Mourvedre is always an excellent choice to go with a steak frite. Parfait[5]!" "Please, wait a couple of minutes. The orders will be served soon."

"Merci beaucoup," Bobby said, which meant thank you.

"De rien[6]," the waiter replied with a genial smile. He then walked into the kitchen. And he came back with another waiter, two plates in his hands and another plate holding the wine bottle.

The two of them had had sumptuous dinners and came out of the restaurant after paying their bill.

,m They took a turn, walking side by side on a deserted pavement, passing dozens of vendors selling various goods. Margaret was overjoyed, enthralled by the hospitality of the French restaurant, and began to praise, bloviating the details of the hearty meals they had shared not long ago. "Wow, can we go to that restaurant sometime soon?"

"Why not? I like that place too. We can always go there another time." Bobby gave his word.

"I'm interested in learning French, maybe I can take a course in that. It was quite annoying to be unable to understand a single word the waiter said." Margaret said, pondering for a while. "Bobby, you've always been the most educated one in our family. Would you mind telling me what he was saying to you at the time? " She nagged on him.

"Okay, okay, so when he says 'Parfait', which means excellent. Then, I replied saying, 'Merci beaucoup' meaning thank you. Then he responded, 'De rien.' which means you are welcome."

Margaret repeated after him, memorized it by heart, and she continued muttering aloud.

Suddenly, Bobby stopped his footstep.

"Hey, are you tired?" Margaret turned around and said, "We can stop here for a bit."

"Nah, I'm good. It's just my shoelace." Bobby leaned down and redid, tying them. "Alright, let's go. Oh, there is a jewelry mall over there. I'll buy you some jewelry if you find anything fancy."

"Cool! Let's go. I can't wait anymore." Margaret was overjoyed and almost jumped up. She then held his hand, ran toward the mall, pulling him with her.

Inside the jewelry shop, after checking some ladies' earrings and necklaces, Bobby suddenly said worriedly while searching his pants' pockets, "Margaret, I have forgotten my wallet in the French restaurant. You stay here. I'll make a dash over there and it won't take long."

"No, I'm coming with you." Margaret insisted on tagging along with him.

"Nah, you stay here. I'll be here in ten minutes again. So relax and pick some more. Today, I'll buy anything you like." Bobby said and walked out of the shop.

As soon as he walked out of the room, he again felt the same brooding feeling he had felt before. "Cynthia, what is going on?" Bobby asked, muttering under his breath.

"Umm, it's the killing intent which is also directed at you," Cynthia answered in a casual tone.

"Killing intent? What exactly is it?" Bobby asked again.

"Wow, you have some unfriendly guests. It means some people are interested in you, especially taking your heads off." Cynthia asked in a playful tone. "By the way, have you recently provoked anyone?"

"So you mean, there are some assassins lurking in the darkness here, aiming to kill me?" Bobby asked, ignoring her question.

"There are three. Judging by their leaking killing intents, it shows they are armatures. Kill them all." Cynthia suggested, speaking boldly.

"Stop kidding. I can't even find out where the hell they were currently hiding. That's absolutely impossible. Literally, I'm outmatched." Bobby denied strongly.

"Eh, are you really the master of the Unholy system? Chickening out even for those small fries." Cynthia didn't give up.

"But I can't even pinpoint their current positions," Bobby complained.

"Have you forgotten something? Psst! Are you only good with charming beautiful ladies? This is really disappointing." Cynthia explained in a way, provoking him slightly. "Hey, activate Devil's eyes mode and use the X-ray mode. For the records, you have only used this skill on peeping those innocent girls. Ah, I pity them. Tch-tch-tch!" And she burst into laughter.

[1]monsieur: Sir in French.

[2]Bonjour, mademoiselle. Bienvenue: which means, 'Hello, miss. Welcome!".

[3]steak frites: meaning steak and French fries, a very common and popular dish in Europe. The national dish of Belgium.

[4]Mourvedre: Great peppery wine that's robust enough for really meaty flavors.

[5]Parfait: means excellent in French.

[6]De rien: means "You are welcome!" in French.

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