In the backseat, Monica was locked in a birdcage but showed no signs of stress.
Wayne sat in the front passenger seat, glancing at Mona, who was driving: "Stop laughing; you've been laughing so much the steering wheel is swerving."
Mona pressed down the corners of her lips, recalling the whispers from Slyphy at the dining table. Her soul felt refreshed, as if she'd ascended to Heaven.
Hexuno: There's no such talk in Heaven.
Mona: Shut up, you're just jealous!
The car arrived at Wayne Manor. Wayne got out of the car, carrying the birdcage, and tilted his head toward the driver's seat: "What, you're not getting out?"
Mona rolled her eyes and thought to herself, "Isn't that obvious?" She hit the gas and drove off.
"What a great woman. If I were the Saint Heir, I'd definitely promote you to Vice-Regent someday."
Wayne strolled into the house, birdcage in hand, heading to the backyard to release Monica.
"Coo-coo-coo—"
