Klein was in no hurry to confirm his general assumptions. He pretended that nothing had happened and turned the page so that it faced him.
The information he wrote about Ian Wright was completely true. He would still get a positive answer even if he used divination techniques to confirm. Therefore, he believed that the people under the ambassador’s charge would follow this investigations trail and gain something in return. It was unlikely that they would have the motivation to seek revenge on him for the time being.
Similarly, he would continue to spread the paper out on his desk for the military’s special department who were monitoring him. It would direct their attention away from him as they shifted their focus to Ian Wright. It would then be a race against time to find him before the ambassador.
This way, Klein would be even safer.
It feels like I’m walking on a tightrope. Is this a Clown’s special trick? He shook his head in amusement. He opened the oriel window, hoping to take in the fresh morning air, but there was thick, choking smog outside that made him quietly close the windows.
Pressing down the paper with Ian’s information with an ink bottle, Klein went to the closest bathroom and quickly washed up. He then picked up the black double-breasted suit and the half top hat that hung from the rack and walked all the way to the first floor.
He had an appointment with Lawyer Jurgen for breakfast today.
Pulling his black silver inlaid cane from the umbrella stand in the foyer, Klein walked along the edge of the street in a thick fog that provided visibility of no more than ten meters until he reached 58 Minsk Street. He rang the doorbell of the dark house.
As the clanging sound echoed, a black green-eyed cat with a raised tail suddenly appeared in his mind.
Brody the black cat walked straight to the door. After preparing itself for two seconds, it leaped up and grabbed the handle of the door.
Then, it inevitably fell and twisted the handle with its weight, and opened the door.
With a creak, the morning wind blew in, and the door slowly opened.
Brody the black cat glanced at Klein haughtily as it walked to the side.
“What a clever cat,” Klein praised as he faced the old lady, Doris, in her white apron.
Doris laughed as her wrinkles eased.
“It depends on its mood. Most of the time it acts stupid, as though it doesn’t know what you’re talking about. Oh, I’ve prepared my best bean turnip soup for you. Eat it with bread.”
Bean turnip soup... Sounds like something randomly mashed together... Klein smiled.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
The lawyer came out of the bathroom. Even at home, regardless if he had just woken up, he was dressed to the nines. His white shirt was ironed and his brownish-yellow vest was tightly fitted, the lines of his trousers appearing to be freshly ironed.
“The contract you wanted is complete. Check to see if there are any omissions.” Jurgen’s blue eyes swept over. He didn’t make small talk as he went straight to the point.
His brown hair was neatly combed back, and the sheen from the pomade was unmistakable.
“Alright.” Klein leaned his cane, took off his hat and coat, and followed Jurgen into the study on the first floor, where he received a thick contract.
He stood there, casually flipping through it. The more he read, the more his head hurt. In the end, he only skimmed through the key clauses.
I hope that everything that’s needed is in there, as well as the previously omitted clauses, such as the establishment of the three instances that will determine how much money is to be supplied to Leppard based on his progress, rather than a lump sum payment of 100 pounds. The first instance involves 50 pounds... Yes, that way I won’t have to go to the Backlund Bank for the time being and take out the remaining hundred pounds from my anonymous account. What I have on me is enough...
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YOU ARE READING
Lord Of The Mysteries (chp.201-400)
FantasyAuthor : Cuttlefish that loves diving 爱潜水的乌贼 This is for offline reading purposes only this is not my work Everything belongs to It's rightful owner, cuttlefish