Combination Punch

Lagu woke up.

No one had called him, nor had he woken from holding it in. His eye sockets simply hurt too much for him to sleep.

Healing potions could treat injuries, but they could only restore functionality to the wounded area. The pain and bruising would linger for a long time. Once the adrenaline wore off, all he could rely on was willpower.

"Knock, knock!" Someone knocked on the door.

"Get lost!" Lagu shouted hoarsely, grabbing the cup beside his bed and hurling it at the door.

Ever since he had made a name for himself in the gang at twenty-two, he had never suffered such humiliation.

"Boss, I think you should take a look. Our healing potions have been returned."

Hearing that, Lagu endured the pain in his eyes and scrambled out of bed. Returns were a serious matter. Healing potions had a shelf life; if they could not be resold quickly, they would be stuck in his hands.

When he opened the door, he saw his assistant's worried face.

"Who? Who returned them?"

The assistant hesitated, seemingly too afraid to look at Lagu.

"Say it! Did several more stores return them or something?"

"Uh, no."

"Then what are you afraid to say?"

The assistant seemed to spend a long time steeling himself before finally gathering the courage to speak. "They... they were all returned."

"?"

Lagu thought he had misheard.

"Say that again!"

"They were all returned. Every order from last month was returned."

"Am I crazy?" Lagu suddenly felt his heart rate become irregular, his ears ringing. "Or are they crazy? It's just a magical film. Sure, it got popular, but was this necessary?"

"It's not just the magical film. There's also this." The assistant handed him a thick stack of newspapers.

Lagu took them and read. The more he read, the more agitated he became.

"Healing Potions Contain Animal Feed."

"Evil Potions From Hell."

"Experts State That the Potion May Have Uncertain Adverse Effects."

Finally, his rage overwhelmed him. He tore every newspaper in his hands to pieces, threw them onto the floor, and stomped on them viciously, as though that could make the articles disappear.

"Madmen, they're all madmen! Shameless bastards who would do anything for a little money! Newspapers, experts—what did I do besides cut a few corners? Did I deserve all these accusations? How much did that toy-selling piece of trash pay them? Is it wrong to cut corners in business? Who sells things without cheating people? Aren't you a cheat too?"

The assistant watched his boss lose his mind. Years of workplace experience told him that although his boss kept asking questions, he must not answer! Must not answer! Must not answer!

"Boss." A bodyguard entered the office as well.

"What now?"

"Our potion stores have been smashed up."

"By who?"

"Passersby. Lots of passersby."

"What about the Garrison Corps? What the hell are the Garrison Corps for? Aren't they supposed to maintain order in Twin Towers City?"

"The Garrison Corps joined in too."

"Haha." Lagu laughed in fury. The smile on his face was savage and twisted. Who exactly was the thug now?

"Boss." The manager entered the office as well.

"What now? Did someone tear down the factory too? I'm not angry. I'm not angry at all, haha."

"No. The Inspection Bureau sent someone."

"What?" Lagu almost instantly regained his composure. "Bring me my formalwear. Find that painting I bought last week. The inspector likes paintings. And don't just bring the painting—do you not know how to stuff gold coins into such a large frame?"

Ten minutes later, Lagu was fully dressed, his face caked in foundation to conceal the bruises, as he headed for the reception room.

"Inspector Jack, my apologies for keeping you waiting. Something came up that I truly could not get away from. Please forgive my discourtesy. Your visit to my humble factory truly brings glory to this place."

"No need for pleasantries." Inspector Jack looked stern and ignored Lagu's outstretched hand.

"Ah, how can you call that pleasantry? Every word I said came straight from the heart."

"I hear that the potions produced by your factory have some serious quality issues."

"A misunderstanding, all a misunderstanding. We're a small business, and we value honest dealings above all else. If there are such rumors, we will certainly investigate them thoroughly internally and never tolerate wrongdoing."

As he spoke, Lagu gave his assistant a look, signaling him to bring out the painting.

"You see, I recently acquired a painting. I don't know much about this sort of thing, but I heard that you are especially skilled at appraising paintings, Inspector. Consider it a favor to me—take it with you and have it appraised. There's no rush. You can return it whenever it's convenient for you."

Inspector Jack waved a hand. "No need to trouble yourself. I'm just an ordinary man. I don't have that many hobbies."

"Don't say that," Lagu said anxiously. "If you have no hobbies, how can the Bureau Chief have hobbies? And if the Bureau Chief has no hobbies, how can he serve the kingdom better?"

Inspector Jack remained unmoved. "Stop trying to change the subject. Suspend production at the factory for now. Resume work only once the investigation is complete."

With that, he left without looking back.

Lagu bowed and scraped as he watched the inspector's back recede. "Take care, Inspector. We'll certainly investigate this properly."

Only after the entire group had vanished did Lagu kick the painting. The frame split into several pieces, and the gold coins hidden inside scattered across the floor.

"A damn errand boy acting like some big shot in front of me. What are you looking at? Get back to work!"

He could only vent his anger on his subordinates.

He casually pulled a bottle from the liquor cabinet, took a huge swig, and staggered groggily toward his office.

Yet the moment he entered, he found a goblin in formal attire sitting in his chair.

"Who are you?"

Alcohol had dulled his thoughts.

"Who I am isn't important. One thousand gold coins for your potion factory."

"HAHAHA!" Lagu laughed wildly. "One thousand gold coins? Who do you think you are? Do you know how much this factory is worth?"

"Nine hundred."

"HAHAHA! A goblin in formalwear, pretending to be human in front of me? What gives you the right to speak to me like that? Guards, drag this green-skinned runt out, beat him up, and throw him into the street."

Lagu took another massive gulp. The bottle of strong liquor was nearly empty.

Xin 104 remained expressionless, as though watching a boring clown show.

"Guards! Where are you? Do I pay you to sit around and eat for free? Trash, all of you are trash."

He swayed as he turned around, intending to see where the two bodyguards who should have been standing at the door had gone.

But what greeted him were two drow.

Cold sweat instantly broke out over his body, and he sobered up more than halfway.

He turned back to the strange goblin, and his attitude immediately changed. "I didn't know you sincerely wanted to buy it. I was rash just now and offended you. The factory can be sold, but could we discuss the price? After all, it represents half a lifetime of my hard work."

"Eight hundred."

"No, could you please show some leniency?" Lagu's posture was nearly pleading.

"When the workers at this factory asked you to show leniency over their medical expenses for workplace injuries, where were you?"

"I..."

"Seven hundred."

"Deal, deal!" Lagu did not dare say another word. It was already practically robbery, but if he kept talking, it might turn into outright robbery.

"Very good. You are selling the factory of your own free will, correct?"

"Yes." Lagu practically squeezed the word through clenched teeth.

"No one is coercing you, correct?"

"No."

"Pleasure doing business."

Xin 104 left with the deed and the drow, leaving behind a final sentence: "You have one day to move out."

Lagu sat numbly slumped on the floor, his gaze shifting toward the mechanism for the hidden compartment in the bookcase, his eyes filled with madness.