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Monday, noon.

Hugh, carrying the Desi Pie he'd bought on the way, inserted the key into the lock and turned it.

Clatter

She Door Opening, and a strong smell of alcohol hit her nose.

Fors is back? Hugh closed the door and strode inside, finding his friend, whom he hadn't seen for several days, curled up dejectedly on the Long Sofa.

Her gaze swept across the table and she noticed that the bottle on the Tea Table was half empty. The label clearly indicated it was a bottle of Brandy with a fairly high alcohol content.

"Fors? You were tricked into bed by that man outside, and now you've been heartlessly dumped?" Hugh subconsciously recalled similar cases he had heard about.

Even in bars, no one drinks Brandy this strong straight... Drowning one's sorrows in alcohol is a common choice for victims, second only to suicide...

I told you that guy wasn't a good person... Poor Fors... Hugh sighed inwardly, preparing to walk over and give him a hug.

Startled by the sudden sound, Fors heard Hugh's question and her already flushed face darkened even more.

"Shut up, what nonsense are you spouting!" she snapped, both embarrassed and annoyed.

Hugh ran his fingers through his messy blond hair and asked in surprise, "You didn't choose to numb yourself with high-concentration alcohol because you were hurt?"

Of course not!

Fors irritably, "I used a Sealed Artifact earlier, and drinking strong liquor is a consequence of that, not what you're saying!"

"With such a vivid imagination, why don't you come and write a novel with me?"

Hugh muttered to himself:

"Then why are you so distracted, like you've been scammed out of money and your virtue...?"

She placed the Desi Pie she was holding on the Tea Table, and as she walked towards the Single Sofa, she said, "I bought it from the shop around the corner, why don't you have some too?"

Fors paused for a moment, then shook his head and said:

"Never mind, you eat it yourself. I'll go out and buy some myself later."

"I bought a two-person serving," Hugh said casually.

Fors opened the paper bag and found it to be true. He chuckled, immediately reached for it, and casually asked:

Why did you buy a double serving? It won't taste good when it gets cold.

"I've been coming home late at night lately, and sometimes I can't find anything to eat," Hugh said, picking up a pie and taking a bite, his words muffled.

"And you won't go hungry if you come back."

"Uh, Hugh... you're so kind... I swear to Steam, no, to Mr. Fool, you're my friend for life..." Fors' eyes lit up instantly as he whispered to himself.

After finishing her meal, she volunteered to go to the Kitchen to boil water. After fiddling around in it for a while, she poked her head out with a smile and asked, "You want Black Tea, right?"

"Hmm." Xiu nodded, slightly uncomfortable.

A moment later, Fors returned with her coffee and a cup of Black Tea.

While waiting for them to cool down, Hugh asked somewhat sympathetically, "Why did you come back so quickly? Was there a problem?"

She didn't know the specifics, but she knew the two had gone to Constant City.

Fors curled up in a ball on the Long Sofa, her gaze suddenly turning strange. "You might not believe it, but our commission is complete..."

"It's done?!" Hugh's eyes widened. "Didn't you just leave last Tuesday? You didn't even have a week?"

"Of course it's because we're amazing..." Fors smiled, then sat up straight as if remembering something, looking expectantly at the Single Sofa:

"Hugh... I have a question for you, and I hope you will answer it seriously."

"I knew it, you can't just enjoy the pampering of lazy people..." Hugh muttered, then nodded. "Ask away, as long as I know the answer."

Fors chuckled and quickly asked, "Why wouldn't you lend me the money when you were short of money to buy the ' Sheriff ' Formula?"

Hugh paused for a few seconds, then pursed his lips:

"Is it too late for me to return the Black Tea to you now?"

"Of course it's too late!" Fors said irritably, "You've already taken a sip."

Upon hearing this, Xiu fell silent again. After hesitating for nearly two minutes, he said with a slightly unnatural expression, "Because we're friends, our relationship is equal. I'm not Parasitism that leeches off you to survive, how can I spend your money for no reason? Your savings were earned word by word, not found on the street."

"Besides, what if you suddenly need money and I can't pay it back?"

"Is that so?" Fors asked, a thoughtful expression on his face.

At this moment, Hugh seemed to sense something and looked at his friend suspiciously:

Why did you suddenly ask this question?

"He wants to keep you as a sugar daddy? I've heard many writers have similar interests."

"Hey, Hugh! What are you saying! I was just... asking casually." Fors chuckled. "By the way, did anything fun happen last week?"

Although he guessed the other person was changing the subject, Hugh still gave a reply:

"There's nothing fun about it. I'm out running around all day, I'm exhausted..."

"However, Miss Audrey was also there when we helped you sell the ' Apothecary ' Formula to Viscount Glaint. She said her Golden Dog had chewed up her collection of Roselle's Notes and hoped we could help her collect some more."

Fors couldn't help but sigh:

"Still need to collect more? I bet she spent a fortune on those Roselle notes... Sigh, when will we ever be as rich as her?"

"Soon," Hugh said seriously.

Fors in confusion, "Huh?"

Hugh chuckled, unable to suppress a laugh, and said:

What I mean is, you drank a high concentration of alcohol and then ate something, so you need to go back to your room and get a good night's sleep.

"In dreams, you can have as much money as you want. Also, I deposited the three hundred pounds from selling the Formula into the bank, in your Anonymous Account."

"..." Fors rolled her eyes and continued to lie motionless on the Sofa.

I want to sleep too, but it'll be 3 a. m. in less than two hours, and I don't want to miss the Concealment gathering of the God organization because of this...

She sighed inwardly and continued to fight against her drowsiness.

At the Junction of District Three, Former Ceramics Factory is awaiting transformation.

Lorry woke up in his Independent Large Office, intending to make himself a cup of Black Tea to sober up.

A moment later, the aroma of tea filled the air. He took his teacup and walked to the window, where he saw Female Workers who had finished their lunch break walking back to the workshop in twos and threes.

Lorry took a small sip of Black Tea, found it a bit too hot, and placed it on the windowsill. He then began to stretch his stiff neck, making a soft creaking sound.

He recalled the scene he saw when he returned home that morning, and a slow smile crept onto his lips.

"Those readers are really persistent and quite capable; they actually found out my address, smashed the outer window, and threw threatening letters and razor blades inside..."

"You think I'll give in like this? Tch... Naïve."

"I just couldn't bear to see the innocent Miss Melanie grieving over the protagonist's death; it had absolutely nothing to do with her father being Duke Negan."

As he spoke, Lorry pulled a special letter out of his pocket.

It was placed in the Second-Floor Study by the Lieutenant Colonel.