"Mr. Anthony, I'd like you to write a check."
At the hotel, Eric spoke to Anthony, the publishing house representative accompanying him on the trip.
Of average height and in his forties or fifties, Anthony had a hooked nose and a capable build. He asked in confusion, "But the publishing house already advanced you thirty thousand in royalties. The first batch of hardcovers has only just gone on sale. Although your book is very popular, we can't—"
"Not the publishing house. Me."
Eric explained, "I'll provide the money for the check, but it needs to be mailed to my home in the publishing house's name."
Anthony nodded, instantly understanding what Eric meant.
Eric was afraid the Kents would question where the money came from, so he wanted it mailed under the publishing house's name.
He did not ask where Eric had gotten the money and simply agreed.
"Then how much?"
Anthony asked Eric.
"Fifty thousand."
"Hmm..."
Anthony hesitated. "It'll be a little troublesome, but it's not impossible."
"I'll mail the check to Kent Farm in the name of publishing royalties. I'll also write a letter telling Mr. Kent that, because the new book is selling well in Gotham, the royalty share that was originally due next quarter is being paid in advance."
Anthony thoughtfully came up with an explanation to address any suspicions from Eric's parents.
He had always treated Eric with great respect. Besides the fact that Eric was his client, he was often affected by the aura Eric seemed to radiate, and instinctively regarded him as one of the dangerous, untouchable figures from his dark works.
After Anthony left the room, Eric stretched, got up, walked to the window, and pulled back the curtains.
The gloomy sky came into view.
A light rain dripped from the dark clouds,