Patience (Bonus Chapter for Monthly Votes)

He should have gotten the manuscript by now...

Having just finished chatting with several guests, the Intis Republic's ambassador held a glass of wine and maintained a smile, but his mind was on something else.

That little Detective actually thought staying at home would be safer than running away?

By now, Rosago should have gone to his door. It was all his fault. If not for him, MI9 would never have learned of my affairs, and everything would have gone smoothly.

It was all because of that little Detective. Now, I have to return home.

I truly hated to leave this place. Although Backlund's weather was a little too bad, its pollution a little too heavy, and the ladies and madams here a little too conservative. But I liked it here. It was all that Detective's fault!

Beckron took a sip of the red wine in his glass, filled with resentment. At that moment, he sensed someone watching him and looked back to see a middle-aged man with slicked-back hair and a goatee.

As a veteran Conspirer and intelligence chief, a photographic memory was the most basic requirement. Thus, Beckron immediately recalled the man's identity.

George Green, spice merchant. Divorced, no children. Interested in young girls. Well, we have something in common there.

Let me think. This fellow also has prostate problems, and his digestive system isn't very good. What a pitiful man.

Right, he's allergic to pomelos and left-handed.

As Beckron recalled this information, he walked toward him. Mr Green froze for a moment, then nervously straightened his chest. The smile on his face was somewhat unnatural, but delight bloomed in his eyes.

Beckron knew that kind of delight all too well. These merchants who had achieved a little but still weren't quite presentable always tried their best to