Not long after, Vodka received a message.
Vodka: "..."
Uzo's intelligence?
From Curacao?
...That woman barely had anything to do with Uzo. What kind of intelligence could she have? She wasn't trying to show up empty-handed and fish for Uzo Coins, was she?
Vodka suspected it briefly, but he still quickly offered a price of one coin for this message blind box.
"If I remember right, Curacao was also at the scene of today's case. She really does have some skill when it comes to intelligence. Maybe, during the time she spent with him that day, she caught some flaw in Uzo?
"With intelligence like this, better to kill by mistake than let it slip by—besides, I made the Uzo Coins myself. A few clicks of the mouse and I can copy out a whole bunch. If we're talking about getting something for nothing, I'm the absolute winner."
Thinking this, Vodka haggled with Curacao for a while, and in the end, generously transferred two coins over.
Very soon, his phone was shaken, and Curacao's email arrived.
Vodka immediately sat up straight and opened his mailbox.
He clicked open the email worth two coins, and a photo was the first thing to leap into view.
——A plain, low-profile black sedan was stopped in the courtyard. The car body and the ground beside it were covered in heavy snow. It was slightly slanted, and if one looked closely, one could see that the tire on one side was flat.
"A car with its tire punctured?" Vodka's eye twitched, and he instantly understood why this photo had come into being: Uzo must have destroyed Curacao's means of transportation in an unsporting move, all to stop an actor from leaving the stage without permission.
"What kind of intelligence is this?" Vodka faintly felt as