"Uh, compensation?" She was stunned for a moment, then realized she had to say something.

"Yes, compensation. Didn't your company post promotional posters in every corner of the city? 'Provide fair compensation for property losses caused by magical disasters'. Now I am really glad that I insured my assets." He

He said with a bright smile, "I'm not in the wrong place, right?"

"Of course, sir," she replied. At that moment, Shireen had countless questions in her mind, and most of them were related to her life.

"Great, how do we start?" He crossed his fingers and put his hands on the table.

What is going on? A small part of Shireen's mind is screaming and begging her to run away, while the other, more rational part advises her to calm down and continue to observe.

Maybe it wasn't that bad, she thought, at least he didn't rush at her hysterically, smashing the glass.

Maybe she recognized the wrong person? It was so dark last night, so it wouldn't be surprising if she recognized the wrong person.

Even if he is indeed the body lying in a pool of blood, he probably doesn't know what Shireen did...

But why didn't he die?

How could a person still be alive after losing so much blood?

Her mind was filled with all kinds of questions, and she finally recalled the content of the first lesson of the receptionist training. Name, you have to ask for the name first.

"May I ask your surname, sir?"

"Thomas End, from Pokerland."

She took a slow, deep breath, then tore off a note from the pile, wrote his name, and pointed it out to him. "Is it spelled correctly, sir?"

"Yeah...that's exactly right." He nodded.

"Please wait a moment, Mr. Ende." She added a "9" on the paper, stood up and left the service window as calmly as possible, and walked towards the filing counter not far away.

Her legs were shaking, and Shirin couldn't help but be glad that she was wearing a long skirt. However, this small comfort did not alleviate the fear in her heart at all.

What should she do next? She just didn't have time to think about it...did this person come to her on purpose?

No, it's impossible. Fifteen minutes ago, she was sitting in the back office hall reviewing documents. No matter who this person was, there was no way he knew about this in advance.

It must be a coincidence. Although it is unexpected, it can only be a coincidence.

Of course, shrouding the coincidence is a bigger mystery. What was the "dead man" she saw last night?

Shireen's knowledge of magic is limited to news in newspapers, but as far as she knows, there is no magic in this world that can bring people back to life. At least not among the magic that has been made public.

Is he really not dead? She put down the note on the file transfer application on the file counter and glanced at the man sitting in front of the service window No. 9. His face was rosy and he looked very healthy. He didn't look like he had lost any blood.

Many people.

Shireen really hoped she hadn't stepped into some muddy waters. She was just a desperate young woman who just needed some money to get out of trouble. But if that money meant trouble...

Well, now she can only take one step at a time. Shirin pinched the back of her hand, then returned to the service window No. 9 and gave him a smile. "The archivist will find your insurance information and send it over.

, then we’ll see what we can do for you.”

Thomas Ende nodded, his polite gesture was incompatible with his mediocre appearance. The longer Shireen observed him, the more questions she had in her head... There must be a secret hidden in this man, and she witnessed it last night

one.

She knew she couldn't remain silent or she would go crazy with nervousness. She had to say something, anything. "What did you insure?"

He leaned back in his chair and said, "I run a handicraft store myself. It's on Crescent Street, not far from here."

"What happened?"

"What else could it be? We encountered a magical disaster." He said and sighed, "It was yesterday afternoon. At that time, I was introducing the origin of a set of witch wood amulets to two foreign tourists, and then three witch hunters

Someone broke in and had a fierce fight with an invisible opponent. By the time I came to my senses, most of the goods in the store had been destroyed."

His depressed look didn't look like he was pretending. So although she was still scared, Shireen managed to put on a sympathetic expression.

The Duke's witch hunters can indeed be regarded as a kind of magical disaster. They have received special training and are responsible for hunting down various monsters that "threaten the safety of citizens".

In order to better respond to crises that may arise at any time, one of the many privileges the Duke granted them was the ability to "expropriate" civilians' private assets during emergencies.

Shireen often saw witch hunters operating in groups, but rarely saw them fighting monsters with her own eyes. However, as long as they drew their swords from their sheaths, public or private property would be damaged.

Avon Insurance Company accepts several claims related to witch hunters every day. Those guys are too pretentious and never care about the collateral damage caused when performing their tasks.

"Luckily you are insured." She said softly.

"Yeah." He shrugged, then adjusted his sitting posture, "Can I ask you some questions?"

Her heartbeat accelerated in vain. Shirin subconsciously put her left hand in front of her chest. This posture made her feel more secure. She wanted to answer "Of course not!", but if the team leader who was patrolling heard it, her bonus would be

You will definitely be severely punished.

"Of course." So she replied insincerely. Shireen found desperately that it seemed to be getting harder and harder to stay calm.

"Don't worry, it's not a personal issue." He scratched the stubble on his chin, "What time do you usually get off work in the evening?"

She breathed a sigh of relief and her heartbeat slowed down, "...about six o'clock."

"Then do you know who often works overtime? For example, they work until the last train before leaving the company?"

Fortunately, the temperature in the reception hall was quite pleasant, otherwise she would have been sweating by now. Thanks to Clarks for letting her temporarily become the receptionist.

"I'm so sorry, sir." She gave the most innocent smile in her life, "Receptionists usually get off work on time. I don't know about other people's situations."

He looked at her for a while and finally nodded, "Okay, thank you anyway."

Shireen felt like she was about to collapse. Although she didn't know how he came back to life, the man sitting in front of her at this moment must be the "dead man" she met last night. What's worse is that he obviously knew that he

Lost money and became suspicious of Avon Insurance employees.

What should she do now? If Thomas Ende really has the ability to return the dead, he's probably not human.

Should she go to the witch hunters? They'd be happy to deal with this type of thing, sure. But they'd ask questions, lots of questions... Shireen's stolen money won't be kept secret for long.

The archivist who ran an errand saved her life. "Mr. Thomas End of Pokerland," he said as he passed window nine, putting down a sealed document bag.

"Thank you," she said, and the gratitude in her tone was not fake.

After the archivist left, she took the documents out of the bag. Thomas End did insure his handicraft shop, and it was a lot of money. The address of the shop...damn it, 7 Crescent Street. Everything he said

Everything can go right.

"There is nothing wrong with your information," she finally replied, "We will send specialists to the site as soon as possible to assess your losses and then work out a reasonable compensation amount."

"great."

"Then, please fill out this application form and I will forward it to the review department as soon as possible."

After he filled out the form, he left, which was incredibly smooth. Shirin looked at his retreating back, but she felt no sense of relaxation or relief at all.

Things definitely can't be that simple.

The rest of the business that day was unremarkable. She received a total of six insurance applications and three claim applications. The only accident happened in the afternoon, when a tall boy who looked like he had just grown up wanted to know if she was free in the evening.

But she was really not in the mood to deal with this kind of thing, so she rejected his suggestion on the spot.

The receptionist could get off work in the evening. She returned the headband and plain glasses to the dressing room, and left the company with the other receptionist girls at about 6:30.

Accompanied by others, she finally had the courage to walk down Seven Oaks Street. Shireen listened absently to her colleagues chatting and laughing, feeling extremely nervous.

As she passed the alley last night, her fear and anxiety returned again. The broken glass and torn canvas were still there, but the body and blood stains were gone, and there was no cordon set up by city guards at the murder scene.
Chapter completed!