Mythology Rebooted-Chapter 367 - 176: Swear Never to Coexist with Drugs

Wayne gripped Philomena’s ankle, his other hand spreading night cream, fingertips gliding from calf to knee, the palm massaging the stiff limb, then smeared some more cream on her thigh.

Philomena smiled unchanged, looking like she’d seen it all, but her hands pressing down the hem of her dress and her rigid body still gave her away.

Turns out she’s just a "tough-talking champ"!

Wayne was disdainful inside; with this little skill, she dared to flaunt herself—an obvious path to self-destruction.

Being kind-hearted, he decided to kill Philomena’s sense of shame that day.

"Nice legs!"

Wayne exclaimed in admiration, praising Philomena’s beautiful legs for their delicate, smooth, and elastic skin, their slender and graceful curves, even more for their elongated fluidity, glowing white under the lights as if a fine piece of art.

His voice was loud, shameless in speech, lustful in performance, and after finishing, he swallowed hard.

It didn’t seem like an act at all.

Having finished one leg, Wayne’s fingertips caressed, pausing to savor the aftertaste, and tilted his head to peek beneath the hem.

He released that leg and gave Philomena a slight smile. In the moment she managed to catch her breath, he suddenly grabbed the other leg, lifting it high to press her foot against his chest.

"Ah!"

Philomena cried out in alarm, her heartbeat racing, her cheeks flushing slightly, and her breathing became short.

"What’s the matter, High Priest?"

Wayne’s smile was full of mischief, not in a hurry to apply the night cream, waiting for her response.

Wayne: Can you continue?

Philomena: I’ll continue then!

Giving up halfway, all previous efforts would be wasted, especially with Wayne’s challenging gaze making Philomena particularly annoyed.

You, a handyman, a functional article, a lackey, a servant, a nobody—what’s there to be proud of!

"Be gentler, you hurt me just now."

"I see, and here I thought the High Priest was shy."

Wayne suddenly understood, apologized for his clumsiness while adding, "It makes sense, given your age and high position, you’ve seen it all. How could you be shy over such a trifle."

He continued with the night cream application: "High Priest, you should take care of yourself. Look at the muscles in your legs, hard as rock. Don’t let the pressure of work crush you, or you’ll age quickly."

As he spoke, he suggested that although the curves were beautiful, they were superficial, and the pressure of life erodes the once vibrant body, with fatigue and weakness leading to muscle relaxation and wrinkled, less elastic skin.

Just like those cosmetic product advertisements—exaggeration was the key.

Wayne could tell Philomena was very conscious of her looks, and any word related to aging would be a critical hit to her.

As expected, Philomena took the bait immediately: "Sounds nice, you understand women well?"

Of course, she might just be deflecting the topic to take the focus off Wayne’s "magic-powered" hands.

"I understand them very well indeed."

Wayne, brimming with confidence, cradled the calf in his hand, kneading the tense, stiff curves: "Not to put it impolitely, but the High Priest could ask around, in current-day Lundan, I claim to be the second-best at understanding women—no one dares claim to be the first."

Such a scoundrel?

Philomena instinctively drew back her leg; if that was the case, she wanted no further part in this.

Wayne held her ankle firmly and teased Philomena with a brow lift: "I’m a women’s fashion designer. Ever heard of stockings? The hottest product for ladies in Lundan, designed by me."

Philomena was taken aback and incredulously said, "You designed them?"

She was aware of the stockings; only a few days earlier in Paris, she saw the ’Slyphy Valentine’ brand hosiery and took an immediate liking to them. They were in high demand but hard to source, and only through an acquaintance did she learn that the stockings were imported goods from Windsor, across the sea, and Lundan was their origin.

She had planned to snap up a few pairs upon arriving in Lundan.

She never imagined the designer would be right in front of her, touching her legs.

"..."

"Stop touching, will you answer the question?"

"Sorry, the touch is just too addictive."

Wayne made no attempt to conceal his lecherous nature; there was no need to pretend—not only had he already touched, but Philomena, his first love, was hardly worth his time to feign decency.

A genuine heart begets a genuine heart, and a woman with ill intentions will only receive malice in return.

"Keep talking about the stockings, where did you get the inspiration? Are there other products that haven’t been released yet?" Philomena was particularly keen.

The inspiration came on a train, from a pair of fine legs.

Since the legs belonged to a teacher, Wayne found it inappropriate to mention, so he swiftly moved on: "Indeed, there are many products that haven’t been released, such as ladies’ underwear..."

He glanced towards the depths of her gown and scoffed, "Terrible designs—that are neither attractive nor practical. Your taste really is so-so."

Philomena was furious, and after reconsidering, she pressed down on her robe and said defiantly, "Bring out your designs then, I want to see how attractive and practical they are."

"Impossible!"

Wayne shook his head: "The product hasn’t been launched yet, and showing it to you could risk leaking design ideas, which would cost me a fortune in compensation to the company."

"So, you don’t have any?" Philomena challenged.

"New products, no, but I do have older models." ƒгeewёbnovel.com

Wayne raised his hand to take out a pair of stockings from his pants pocket, opened the package, and helped Philomena put them on.

Why do you carry stockings with you?

Philomena felt that Wayne had come prepared. Just as she was about to say something, she realized their position was too suggestive, with the little lecher practically on top of her. Her sense of shame overwhelmed her desire to win, and she pushed the lecher away to stand up from the sofa.