At the garden entrance, Mr. G poured Miss F a glass of red wine as well.
"I know you don't like red wine, but you should still try this bottle. It was produced in 2000, and there are fewer than a thousand bottles in the world. It's hard to find even on Earth."
Miss F shook her head without taking the glass.
Mr. G did not mind. He set the glass down. "Are you still worried about him?"
"Hadn't the earlier battle already proven his strength? Why did you still send him to your Assassin Hotel?" Miss F asked, puzzled.
"Because I told you, the situation this time is complicated. I don't just need a capable courier; I also need someone with enough observational and analytical ability. Yes, his fighting skills are indeed excellent—better than anyone I've ever seen, even—but skill alone isn't enough. The assassins in the Assassin Hotel may not be as strong as those people in the garden, but they are better at seizing opportunities and are skilled at disguising themselves."
"But earlier, you only told him to be careful of the people in the garden."
"That's right, because otherwise I wouldn't have been able to assess his observational and analytical abilities." Mr. G spread his hands. "Danger won't only appear when you're prepared for it. You should understand that better than I do."
Miss F fell silent.
"This battle won't end so quickly. Even if he sees through the trick, as long as the assassins in the hotel hold the kitchen and drag things out, he still won't pass this test." Mr. G took a sip of wine. "I'm rather curious what he plans to do in the face of what comes next."
The bullet holes left in the walls on either side of the