Backlund, 62 Queen's Avenue.
After completing the bestowal ritual, Hobart received 6100 Pounds in cash. Little Sun's eight pieces of Extraordinary Material would have to wait until he returned to Silver City before payment could be made.
He put 100 pounds into the wallet that had been flat for several days, then sacrificed 6000 pounds to the Country of Disorder. The 5000 pounds he had taken out earlier would be enough for a while.
Having earned so much today, Hobart was in high spirits. He had the kitchen add a few dishes and planned to have a drink that evening to relax. After all, he had been tense these past few days.
But at dusk, Doffis suddenly came to report, "Count, Tim, the Feneport Kingdom's Ambassador, requests an audience."
"What does he want?" Hobart frowned. "Don't see him."
He was no longer that little lawyer from before. If he did not want to see an ambassador, then he would not.
Besides, he had only just been made a count because he had fleeced the Feneport Royal Family. Why would he meet the Feneport Kingdom's Ambassador now? No matter how thick-skinned Hobart was, he would still find it awkward! After Doffis went out to refuse him, he returned with an envelope. "This is from the Ambassador."
Hobart opened the letter and looked at it. There was only one sentence: Tonight at eight, in the abandoned Warehouse in Bailan Town, the East Suburb of Backlund. I will be waiting.
It was signed: Aishe.
Hobart's gaze sharpened. He examined it closely. It really was Aishe!
At that moment, the letters on the letter paper rapidly faded until nothing remained but a blank white sheet.
Doffis, standing beside him, asked, "Do you need me to make any preparations?"
Hobart lightly waved a hand. "Let