Conner personally went out to receive the Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Perhaps this was the first time, and also the last.
At a time like this, he had to display his "wisdom." A first impression was especially important.
"I didn't know what to bring. I hope these fruits don't seem too shabby!" The Director knew how to speak. The fruit in the basket he held had cost several hundred dollars in total.
Actually, for someone like Conner—or someone of his standing—there was little difference between a few hundred, a few thousand, or even tens of thousands of dollars.
What they cared about was not what the visitor brought, but the visitor himself.
Conner took the fruit basket and handed it to his wife. Then he shook the Director's hand. "My daughter loves this fruit. It's too cold outside. Let's go in and talk."
The Director brushed the few snowflakes from his shoulders. After thanking him, he entered Conner's estate.
A luxurious estate.
There were many similar estates in the suburbs of Bu Peien, all hidden among dense vegetation and difficult to glimpse in their entirety.
In some areas, they even put up barbed wire directly, telling passersby that everything within the fence was private property and that trespassing would be dangerous.
The wealthy and these politicians could be very high-profile at times—on television or in public, whenever they did certain things.
They wished the whole world knew who they were, where they were, and what they were doing.
But at other times, they were extremely low-key, so low-key that they would not even let others look at them for another second! As the Director removed his coat and handed it to a young, beautiful maid, he could not help sighing inwardly. So this was class.
He was