Curacao lowered her head and glanced at the screen, discovering that Rum was calling.
Her already foul mood only worsened, but no matter what, the person on the other end was still her superior...
After a moment of silence, an unwilling employee answered the phone, intending to report this disastrous mission to her boss.
But before she could speak, Rum spoke first. His very first sentence nearly made Curacao shut down on the spot. "I saw the news. You and Uzo seem to be on pretty good terms."
"..." Curacao gritted her teeth. "It was just a coincidence."
However, Rum had never been the sort of good boss who listened to his subordinates. He continued on his own: "The mission was completed beyond expectations, and far faster than I anticipated. Now that's someone who truly understands that time is money—I said long ago that kid and I would get along well. Under me, he'd definitely be able to perform at double—no, triple—his potential."
Curacao: "..." Yes, and he could also cost you double—no, triple—your lifespan.
The more Rum spoke, the more regretful he sounded. Then, recalling the three essentials to winning over subordinates—power, beauty, and money—and thinking of Curacao's exotic-looking face, inspiration suddenly struck him. All at once, he felt as though he understood something:
"Come to think of it, Uzo seems to have helped you complete missions more than once. You should get in touch with him more often. Invite him out when you have time and express your thanks. You could also say you won a prize and bring him to my Sushi Restaurant—he doesn't seem like the sort of person who easily yields to authority. If I happen to run into him as a friend and build rapport with him, that should be more suitable."
Curacao: "..."