In a private room upstairs from a bar.

Damon sat with several strangely dressed men and women. A young witch with gray hair and a somewhat old look, but with eerily fair skin, sat quietly in her place. Judging from her face and skin color alone, her age is about thirty years old, but the temperament revealed by her, as well as the vicissitudes and wisdom that can only be formed by experiencing a lot of sophistication, make people unconsciously regard her as an old man.

"You'd better be sure that your message is true." The old witch raised her eyes to look at Damon opposite, her tone was slow, but like her gaze, with an oppressive force.

"I don't like to lie." Damon smiled calmly and shook his head, "As long as you can let me meet Catherine, I will tell you everything." ”

"Do you think you're qualified to negotiate with Witch?" As if she couldn't get used to Damon's cynical attitude, the witch's face was cold: "If you want to find out the deepest secrets of a person's heart, the witch society has many methods. ”

"It's a pity, I'm a vampire and hypnosis doesn't work for me. It seems to be becoming more and more common for a group of witches to hang out with vampires. I'm sorry for not letting you do your part. Damon replied absently, and then, as if remembering something, continued in a lengthened tone: "Oh, I forgot, you can still torture me and force me to say it." Want to give it a try? ”

"A lot of the secrets in this world are in the hands of a few. and in the hands of a handful of organizations. Obviously, I don't see how knowledgeable you are from you. The witch sarcastically said.

"Come on. I've survived much longer than the organization you're a member of. Damon waved his hand mockingly.

"So what? I don't deny that people who have gained a long time always know more things than most people. But you're not the only one who lives long. A vampire over a hundred years old. The witch unceremoniously fought back.

"A vampire over 100 years old?" A demagogic smile tugged at the corner of Damon's lips, and he turned his face to the female vampire standing behind the witch, and asked with a hint of teasing, "May I ask how old you are now?" ”

"Just fifty years old, no thanks." The one who was asked had beautiful silver-white shawl hair. The female vampire with delicate facial features and a tranquil temperament replied.

"A very young lady, how old have you lived?" Damon turned his gaze back to the witch. Obviously, I want to use this to satirize the witch in front of me, who is always arrogant.

Witches who have grown up and persevered under the witchcraft system of this world always seem to have a short life, and the more powerful they are, the shorter they are. Maybe it's because it's borrowing too much from nature. This leads to a complete collapse of the body. Or out of some kind of balance of nature.

Whether it is a good rule or a bad rule, the so-called natural will of this world is always imposed on all living beings regardless of whether they are enemies or enemies, good or evil. It's not that long-lived wizards are absent, but it's a bit rare for a witch to live past a hundred years like Damon.

Even though the witch in front of her looked a little weird, her temperament and eyes made her age seem to be as young as her face suggested. But more than a hundred? Damon was skeptical.

"I think you should show me a little respect." The witch's eyes suddenly sharpened. The two knives stabbed straight at Damon Salvatore on the opposite side. Damon, who was staring at by the witch's gaze, felt a continuous sharp pain in his head, and he subconsciously lowered his head and hugged his palms together, as if doing so could alleviate the pain a little.

"Alright Winter, stop torturing him. Don't forget our purpose. It was a female vampire with long silver hair who spoke.

And the witch, who seemed to be the leader of the group, paused the spell after the female vampire spoke, even if reluctantly, to send back the released mana.

"Thank you very much for your generous help, which kept me from being tortured to death by her." Damon shook the pain and faded into his numb head, and his eyes lifted weakly with his head, glancing at the female vampire who spoke for him, and thanked him.

Although Damon's tone of thanks didn't sound very sincere. But apparently the people who were thanked didn't expect much from that either.

"No thanks! Let me add that you are completely self-inflicted. The female vampire first simply flattened Damon's insincere thanks, and the latter sentence stabbed Damon mercilessly.

"I thought you had a crush on me." Damon tilted his head and chuckled.

"It seems that you are indeed narcissistic in the same way as the legend suggests." The corners of the female vampire's mouth twitched.

"I'm in a terrible mood right now, I thought you could make my bad mood a little better. It seems to be an extravagant hope. Damon grabbed a bottle of wine on the table with one hand and carried it straight over.

"Why aren't you allowed to use a truth potion on him, or come to a dementor?" Winter the witch complained about the exit.

"This is my mother's acquaintance." The female vampire replied to the witch Winter.

"Mother?" Damon, who had been in a state of turmoil and depression all along, suddenly cleared his mind, and looked at the female vampire who was talking as if he thought of something.

"Anna. Annabella! You should know my grandmother, Pearl. The female vampire looked at Damon with a serious face and replied loudly. My name is Angie. ”

"Is it really okay to casually reveal the name of an outsider's high-ranking member of the Witch Society?" Winter the witch glanced strangely at Angie.

"He'll find out sooner or later, anyway. Here comes Catherine. Anji waved her hand absently, and her delicate earlobes moved slightly with the almost translucent pinna, and said aloud.

The vampires of this world do not pay attention to their seniority, or even their identity by the length of their lifespan. Even if Catherine and Pearl are friends, both in age and relationship. are completely worthy of being the elders of Anna and Angie, but both Anna and Angie have always called Catherine's name, and Catherine doesn't care.

Damon, who had been a little sluggish and preoccupied, suddenly stood up from his seat and stared at the door of the room.

In a moment, the door was opened from the outside, and Catherine, dressed in a simple long dress and with a beautiful face, quietly stepped forward and met Damon's gaze. (To be continued......)