Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the conference room curtains, cutting sharp patches of light across the polished mahogany table.
Creak-
The conference room door opened, and Thatch's burly figure appeared in the doorway. When he looked toward the head of the table, Boer was already sitting there.
"Lord Boer, you're here." Thatch quickly straightened his collar.
Boer looked up and gestured toward a seat on the other side of the long table. "Sit down, Thatch."
Thatch took his seat as instructed. Capone Bege was already sitting at the other end. His posture was stiff, the corners of his mouth twitching unnaturally, his triangular eyes unable to conceal his shock and uncertainty.
Like a chick tossed into a pack of wolves, Thatch thought.
Boer broke the silence first, his gaze calm. "Thatch, could you write to your school and invite some of your fellow disciples here? Our undertaking needs more manpower. People we can trust." Boer heavily stressed the word "trust."
Thatch frowned. "My lord, I left the school a long time ago... I'll give it a try."
Boer nodded slowly.
In a corner of the conference room, Robin stood before an exquisite tea table. She wore that fitted dress, her long black hair cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall, its ends swaying gently as she moved.
Robin's movements were graceful and fluid-boiling water, warming the pot, adding tea leaves, and brewing, all in one seamless sequence. As she poured boiling water into the Yixing teapot, rising steam blurred the delicate outline of her profile, lending her a hazy beauty.
Beside her, three slender arms formed from petals extended at once, each hand holding a bone china teacup. The arms moved in coordination, as though they had lives of their own, yet obeyed her will completely.
"Please, have some