At Ririko's words, Victor's hands paused on the steering wheel, and he decided not to pursue the matter.
In his experience, this acquaintance of Ririko's either had a dubious occupation or was simply out of their mind.
Either way, he had no reason to learn any more.
The car turned onto the street where their apartment stood.
Back at the apartment, Ririko changed into slippers and flopped onto the sofa, waiting for Poison Ivy to reply.
Every so often, she picked up her phone to check, but Pamela Isley still hadn't sent another message.
She put her phone back on the coffee table, rolled over onto the sofa's armrest, and said to Victor as he headed toward the kitchen, "I don't want ramen anymore."
Victor looked back at her from the kitchen doorway. "Then what do you want?"
"Can't you make some fancy sushi? Tempura would work too."
Ririko buried her face in a cushion and spoke lazily.
Standing in the kitchen doorway with a bowl of ramen in his hands, Victor wondered why he had taken this job in the first place.
"I buy groceries, cook, wash the dishes, and clean every day, and I have to double as your driver. Eat it or don't."
"Forget it, then." Seeing that the bald man really was getting annoyed, Ririko rolled over to face the ceiling. "Ramen will do."
Victor set the ramen down coldly.
Ririko sat at the dining table, eating her ramen.
Suddenly, her phone rang. It was Alfred.
Ririko put down her chopsticks and answered. "What happened?"
"A great many members of the Order of St. Dumas have gathered outside Wayne Manor. They're staging a sit-in at the gates. They look as though they're planning something."
"Where's Bruce?"
"Master Bruce has locked himself in the basement and refuses