After slowly sprinkling carefully selected sea salt over the freshly fried meat, Bucky picked up the plate and set it in front of himself. He took a deep breath, savoring the aroma of the cooked meat.
Nothing could satisfy him more than a special steak for breakfast.
Meat was justice!
But just as Bucky was about to dig in, the video phone behind him suddenly rang.
Mr. Besson, who was not only the self-proclaimed High Priest of the "Cult" but also the Great Manager of the estate, was calling to say that Mr. Saint Fran had come to visit.
Bucky's good mood was instantly wiped out. The call reminded him of the terrifying memory of being exposed on the rooftop—yes, the incident that had happened last night.
In the end, Bucky had not bought the answer from the club's Pad.
It was not because he truly could not bear to spend one hundred thousand Faith Units, but because he currently possessed only a little over thirty thousand.
Why?
Naturally, it was because he had already bought an entire cold-storage room full of special meat—the Messenger of God loved meat, and none of his five daily meals could go without it. Almost everyone in the estate knew this.
The cold-storage room used to store the Messenger of God's rations was guarded by someone twenty-four hours a day.
At present, because of all the bulk purchases, Bucky did not have many Faith Units on hand. He was powerless to buy an answer that cost one hundred thousand units.
Still, Brother Ming clearly was not the one who had inexplicably knocked him unconscious on the rooftop. Otherwise, why would he need the later answer costing one hundred thousand units?
"Such a nuisance..." Bucky frowned. After thinking for a while, he ordered directly, "Besson,