Someone was listening in on the conversation inside the house. A mile or two away, on Tree-Lined Avenue, two men who appeared to be strolling leisurely wore earpieces, yet neither could hear a thing. "Damn it. What's going on? Were those idiots too stupid to install the bugs properly?" one muttered.
"Same here. Nothing but static. If you ask me, there's no need to be polite to that yellow-skinned monkey. We should just arrest him and question him. No matter how good he is at kung fu, can he beat a bullet?"
The two Federation Investigators were still talking when they saw someone approaching from the opposite direction. They hurriedly fell silent.
But the man walked straight toward them, his face cold.
"Are you police officers or Federal Bureau of Investigation agents?"
"Oh, what do you mean?" The two Investigators on surveillance duty froze.
On closer inspection, the man was in his thirties, with sharply defined features. His eyes were especially keen, fixed on the pair like a hawk's.
"I don't care which agency you're from. Stop this outrageous behavior at once," the man said with a sneer. "You've violated Miss Arabella's privacy! Listen carefully: if you don't want to end up in court, you'd better leave quietly!"
Being threatened to their faces left the two Investigators feeling thoroughly humiliated.
But they also knew one thing perfectly well: Lufadan was Heaven, and Lufadan was Hell. For the wealthy—or rather, the fabulously wealthy—all of Lufadan, even all of North America, was Heaven!
Every Federation law existed to protect the interests of those rich people!
They might work for a government agency, but if they crossed people like that, there were a hundred ways to make their lives miserable in the blink of an eye.
Their superiors probably wouldn't have the nerve