Half an hour later, the muttering lawyer Edmund finally finished talking.
"Thank you very much for your trust in our firm," he held Viscount Clint's hand, "all your doubts are about the above parts. As long as you avoid them reasonably, I believe the police station will not make things difficult for you.
"
Clint nodded haggardly: "Thank you, and may the goddess bless you."
He rewrapped the gold ring and put it back in the briefcase. When he got the box, he hesitated for a moment, but followed his timid heart and looked up at Yager: "Can you help me put it back?"
"
"Okay." The laborer who served tea and served as a legal assistant used a tissue to twist the silk scarf on the table, neatly tied a knot on the wooden box, and put the box into his briefcase.
The whole process was done deftly without hitting any corners.
On the other side, Emond had already opened the door for Clint with a smile and showed a please gesture: "Don't worry too much, everything will be fine. I will take you to the front desk to pay first."
Clint packed himself up, turned around and stepped out of the exquisitely decorated office.
Before leaving with the Viscount, Emond turned his head and glanced at Yager with satisfaction: "You performed well this morning, but there is no need to follow you next time. Go directly to the Finance Department to get funds to buy suits. This case
The commission will be paid to you along with your salary at the end of the month."
Fine.
Yager nodded to him and straightened the wrinkles on his windbreaker.
This law firm is not in vain. It works half a day a day, and there are commissions and shopping funds. It is indeed a petty bourgeoisie company supported by the Duke.
Lister, I'm very sorry, you may need to stay in bed for a while.
He closed the gilded doorknob and walked to the finance department.
Clint and Emond's conversation had taken up most of the morning. The finance department was noisy near lunch time, with men and women in smart clothes chatting together, seemingly not interested in working at all.
From a practical point of view, the firm does not need so much finance. In fact, it does not even need paralegals. However, in order to create the feeling of a big company for clients, they still hire a lot of non-essential personnel.
Unlike Yager who needs to be in contact with customers, most financial staff receive meager wages and are children of middle-class families who have nothing to do at home. They do not need money very much and go to work just to kill boring time.
A small number of them are high-paid white-collar workers who actually work.
Miss Molly was one of them. When Yager walked into the office, she was tapping on the typewriter indifferently. The thick report form towering beside her showed her different status from other employees.
"Hello, I'm here to collect the funds to buy clothes when I join the company." Yager walked up and stood in front of her work badge to greet her.
"Name, direct attorney, sign on the form." Molly, who was wearing thick glasses, threw him a form without looking up.
Her hands danced rapidly on the ancient keyboard, almost leaving an afterimage of the ink-printed parts.
After typing one line, she stretched out her hand and clicked, moving the school pick from the right back to the first square on the left, and then continued to work.
This intensity made Yager feel frightened.
Fortunately, I didn't try to force my way into the finance department here. Although the salary was ten pounds a week, it was said that six people were sent to Backlund Central Hospital in two months.
Molly is the only remaining migrant worker in the department.
It is said that she will be promoted to minister next month.
Yager handed the completed form back to Molly and took a look at her face.
Miss Molly's dark circles were darker than the Viscount who stayed up all night for two consecutive nights, and her eyes were bloodshot. As expected, the hospital had reserved a bed for her.
"Here are the funds." Molly handed him a few banknotes, "The entry subsidy will be distributed at the weekend, and the bonus will be at the end of the month. Okay, you can leave now."
She returned to her typing work in full swing.
Taking the ten pounds she took out from the suitcase under the table, Yager bowed slightly.
Pray for Molly that she can survive until the day she is promoted to minister.
As for him, his first priority this afternoon was to buy a hat that would save him from having to bow every day.
Backlund's men often take off their hats when saying goodbye, and without a hat, he can't touch his head, which shows his lack of intelligence.*
Bah, hunters don't have an intelligence bar.
Yager stuffed ten pounds into his trench coat pocket and got into a carriage.
"Backlund Central Business District, thank you."
--
Forsi and her friend Xio were shopping at this time.
Forsi was invited to attend the cultural salon of Viscount Gray Lint tomorrow night, and she needed a new dress.
Although they had attended the salon in the past to do business with Miss Audrey, the countess seemed to have no intention of attending this time, but in order to cover up, Forsi still had to attend the salon all the time.
This made her feel very uncomfortable.
"I just said that it's okay for me to pretend to be sick this time. How can a person attend the salon every time and take a break occasionally." Forsi pouted angrily.
"Really?" Her little friend sneered, "Except for the few times Miss Audrey came, which time did you attend?"
"I obviously often..."
"Last week, you said you were inspired to write. Last week, you said the editor asked you to revise the article. Last week, last week -" Xio clicked her fingers and rattled off a long list.
"Okay, okay, I was wrong!" Forsi quickly slid to his knees and rubbed his hands in aggrieved manner. "I just feel too tired. Chatting with those people is really not my strong point."
Xio looked at her sideways: "I know, but isn't this the only difficulty you have this week? Have you started writing your new book?"
Forsi was discouraged again: "No."
This time she was unwilling to admit defeat and started mumbling a series of reasons, such as being too sleepy in the summer, being too sunny in the morning, being too suitable for a walk in the afternoon, being too dark at night and making it difficult to write, etc.
While poking Forsi with his hand and making Forsi giggle, Xio said, "Excuse! You might as well say that all seasons are not suitable for you. Just sit at the table tonight..."
"
She suddenly froze.
Across the street, one of the carriages coming and going stopped at the door of the handmade clothing store, and a young man with black hair stepped out of the carriage.
The young man was wearing a dark green windbreaker with an indifferent expression. After handing the driver a few coins, he turned back and walked straight to the handmade clothing store at the corner of the street.
The moment he turned around, his cold, inorganic black eyes glanced at Xio opposite him.
It's like falling into an ice cellar.
"Hugh? What's wrong?"
Forsi, who was playing with her, showed doubts in his eyes.
"No, it's nothing." Xio pretended to be calm, and what she said yesterday quickly came to mind.
I will always watch you.
No, you can't think! Maybe the demigod can even know what she is thinking!
Calm down, you must be calm.
Xio looked at the figure disappearing at the door of the store with a shiver down his spine.
"Hugh! What's wrong with you? What's over there?" Forsi raised his voice.
The corners of her friend's lips pursed, and the hands behind her back kept trembling, exactly like the way she looked scared when she was tracking Zyglins.
"Don't worry! There's nothing." Xio snapped.
Realizing that her tone was too strong, she took a few quick breaths and tried to lower her voice: "This is none of your business. I'm safe too. Thank you, Forsi."
This chapter has been completed!