Sha Qing

Chapter 59: The Nightingale & The Duke (2)

The next day, Luna Island, northern island, Luna Club.

There were eleven men sitting in different postures on the sofa chairs in the lobby. Leo glanced around quietly, and indeed, there was no sign of Edgar. It seemed that the fat man had been so frightened by the police that he huddled up inside the villa, not daring to have any more involvement with the club.

The president's secretary, Oliver, stood in the center of the room. After saying some polite remarks with a smile, he finally began to get into topic: "The club's activities will officially start at eight o'clock tomorrow morning. All the preparations are already in place for you gentlemen, to show off your skills. In accordance with the usual practice, each of you will be issued with a long-range weapon of your choice, 500 rounds of ammunition, two special sabers, a high-power binoculars, one off-road jeep, a driver who also acts as a bodyguard.

I'm going to repeat the rules: each member is free to hunt human-preys in red-orange clothes during the event's roundup, but the number shall not exceed three per day; 20:00 p.m. to 8:00 a.m. is a no-hunt time; the Southern Island camp, including the surrounding clearing, is a safe zone. Hunting is prohibited in the said area , but ambushes are allowed on the trails leading to the safe zone ......"

Oliver read out the rules in a routine manner, and the members present were listening with distracted ears as they eagerly await tomorrow's arrival. In the end, when he asked if anyone had given up participating in this event, no one raised their hand.

The Nightingales are excellent in their service, and the club's "Wildlife Conservation Award" is a big money prize for them. So for this award, they always do their best to pester the guests to make them "reluctant to hunt".

However, all of the members love wine, women, and hunting-they would neglect neither one of these three.

-But there's a person who was an exception.

Oliver sized up the new member covertly when he came off the field. After receiving the report from the head of the Nightingales last night, he couldn't help but wonder whether the other man's handsome exterior was hiding malaise functions; or if this leading arms dealer, who secretly controlled nearly half of the world's market, have really high standards that's why he wouldn't even take a look at those stunningly beautiful men and women?

This is a bit troublesome, Oliver thought anxiously.

""

If the reason was the latter, it would simply damage the club's reputation once the word spread out because such a thing had never happened ever since the club was founded. What if Garcia makes a contemptuous comment in a passing within the elite circle with the words: "Luna's Nightingale? Oh, that's all a bunch of worthless vulgar people ...... "

Heavens! If the word got out to the highly proud young Duke of Yavre, I'd probably get thrown into a shark-filled lagoon as punishment! Oliver shuddered under his breath and decided to report the incident in time so that even if something went wrong later, the blame wouldn't fall entirely on his head.

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That night, as soon as Leo finished taking a shower, the doorbell rang.

He quickly tidied up his head and face disguise, fastened the waistband of his long white bathrobe, and walked over to open the door.

Outside the door were two brawny men in black suits and one of them said in a respectful manner, "Mr. Yang, I'm sorry to disturb your rest, but the young Duke of Yavre would like to invite you over for a cup of tea, so please make sure to attend."

The young Yavre? Leo hadn't expected that while he was still trying to figure out how to approach the Duke's son who had been deprived of the inheritance rights, the other man would take the initiative to make a contact with him.

Is this what they called 'twice the result with half the effort'? Or is this an ominous sign? He pondered for two seconds and decided to take this rare opportunity, no matter what.

He learned from the information provided that the son of the Duke seldom show showed up in club activities and that the organization affairs were generally delegated to his secretary, Oliver. He seems to be more interested in leisurely, non-physical activities like such as salons, rather than hunting with real guns and live ammunition.

Salons of high society seemed like something from another universe to Leo, who could neither taste the origin and age of a particular bottle of wine, nor remember the ancestry of every famous racehorses. You can't package a commoner as a true aristocrat in less than a week of intensive training-he can only be regarded as a high imitation at best, or the kind on which others dare not open his outer wrapping.

Now that an opportunity had fallen from the sky, Leo was determined to seize it, even if he felt baffled and knew that he might, perhaps, face a crisis.

"It's a great honor," he said to the two bodyguards with his signature expression - an arrogant, distant smile that looked like an easygoing one (a micro-expression he had practiced in front of a mirror a hundred times before his etiquette teacher approved), "Can I change my clothes first?"

Fifteen minutes later, Leo, led by his bodyguard, appeared in the innermost part of the club, in a building that resembled a European castle. Inside an intricately patterned black walnut door was a lavishly decorated sitting room with two maids gently making tea.

No, there were more than these two; there was another man on the terrace, his back obstructed by layers of white curtains, only faintly visible in outline and easily overlooked, but a keen professionalism made Leo spot him quickly.

After making tea, the maids curtseyed and retired quietly. The wooden door closed silently, and the parlor suddenly became a quiet art gallery.

Leo was not in the mood to appreciate those rare and precious objects. After a brief moment of thought, he intuitively chose a starting point and walked over to lift the curtain in a casual manner and stood side by side with the man at the terrace railing. "There's a remarkable collection in the room. Do you like those artworks, young Duke?"

"Yes, but I prefer the look in people's eyes when they see those works of art." The other man said gracefully in an English accent.

Leo immediately had a tentative summary of him: an aristocratic relic who was immersed in a sense of superiority nurtured by a long family history. This was also evident in the way he dressed-his shoulder-length curls tied back with a ribbon, a silk white shirt with a lace collar and cuffs, and a silver-print waistcoat with jeweled buttons, all in an old-fashioned Baroque style that looked like something out of a medieval painting. He had a pale complexion coupled with elegant and somewhat feminine facial features. His eyes were like two deep wells, with its water rippling with a self-proclaimed floating light under the radiance of the moon.

This young man leaning on the railing in a finely carved posture was the little Yavre, the subject of his trip.

"Understandable." Leo nodded slightly, "I also have quite a collections, but it's not as old and valuable as the young duke's; instead , it gets updated rather quickly. In fact, I prefer the way people look at them too, especially when I put them over their heads."

The young Yavre looked at Garcia with slight shock, seemingly surprised at the naked violence in the latter's words. Even though he already knew that the man's identity was that of a leader in arms trading with considerable family background, but from his appearance, he didn't look like a butcher at all.

Leo laughed first, "Was I too vulgar? My apologies, Your Excellency."

"No, that was quite an amusing thing to say." Yavre said, "You're even more interesting than I thought you would be, Mr. Yang. I think we might be able to become friends. You can call me Lestor."