"Hm?"
Hearing this answer, Neo leaned back, glancing toward either side behind him.
He had the feeling that Kallen was standing behind him, watching him gamble, and had folded a crow and sent it flying over to mock him.
Fortunately, he saw no sign of Kallen.
Phew...
Neo suddenly frowned. Why did he feel so guilty? Who was Kallen to him, anyway? What right did he have to police his gambling?
"Minister, what should we do?" Leon was rather worried. He had an unconditional trust in Kallen; after all, he belonged to the next batch of "believers" personally selected by Alfred.
"What do you mean, what should we do?" Neo lit a cigarette. "He told you to investigate, so investigate. Isn't that what we came here for? Surely we didn't come to gamble?"
Leon: Weren't you the one who invited me here to relax with some gambling?
"What do you think? Interesting, isn't it?" Neo asked. "I only bet a hundred point vouchers just now. If that last bet had won, I could have made tens of thousands."
"But it didn't win."
"Oh, the chances of winning that were never very high." Unconcerned, Neo stood up. "Come on, let's go backstage and see an old friend of mine."
Neo and Leon rose and left their seats. Quite a few people around them cast sympathetic looks their way, assuming they had lost even their underwear.
In reality, that little stake was nothing to Neo now, nowhere near enough to make him yearn for the gentle breeze on a rooftop.
People from the betting company stood guard at the backstage entrance. Inside were two people in clerical robes, predominantly dark red, with a grotesque mask depicted on them. Rumor had it that the clown figures now common in artistic works and circuses