"You rarely show up here at this hour. I have to say, I'm surprised. There's a certain... resolve in your eyes that's hard to put into words. May I ask what happened to you just now?"
In his office in the gallery, Murphy—the scheming developer—set down his quill. He had just finished the first phase of the planning proposal for Instance No. 003: The Land of Rotting Corpses. He looked at Count Andre, who had just come through the door.
The governor's handsome face was wreathed in smiles. The glint in his eyes made it clear that the rascal knew exactly why Andre had come.
He simply wanted to hear the ambitious count, who was a little younger than him, say it out loud.
"I don't believe you haven't set up eavesdropping spells in your gallery, but I don't care about that. And I'll be blunt: I think you've recruited a remarkable group of people from another world."
Count White Mountain said with a disgruntled expression:
"One of them just tried to work his way into my heart with a persuasive little speech. I know he intends to use my reputation and status, yet I have to admit, his nonsense made a fair bit of sense.
"I've made my decision. I came here to bother you only to confirm that the business I'm about to invest in has the permission and protection of the Transian government.
"Please understand, Governor Murphy. My upbringing and the way I conduct myself mean that I can't do anything that would bring shame on my family."
"If that's what you wanted to ask, then I'll tell you this: I don't support what they're doing, but I won't oppose it either. Whether an otherworldly casino will be good or bad for this land is something only