"The Marshal's butler died mysteriously?"
In the video on the screen, the man wearing gold-rimmed glasses chuckled. He looked at the silent council elders opposite him, with a cold smile that did not reach his eyes:
"Maybe Ke Eun remembered it wrong. The cause of death was recorded in great detail in the autopsy report of the previous housekeeper. How could it be a mysterious death?"
The atmosphere in the meeting room was eerily quiet.
The nine directors present were trembling with fear, with cold sweats on their backs, and Colen's own reaction was even greater. He really accidentally and unconsciously said the words that he should not have said.
"Of course, Lieutenant Mist."
Colen was terrified. He smiled nervously and stammered, "I'm old and my memory is not good. The marshal's butler was attacked to death by those hateful demon insects. How can it be called bizarre?"
Mist in the light curtain restrained his smile, and stared at Colen deeply from behind his glasses. When the other's stiff smile was about to collapse, he smiled and said in a friendly manner:
"From a scientific and ethical perspective, if you have memory loss, you should get treatment early. Or picking a qualified successor is also a good idea, isn't it?"
Pick an heir.
Colen's hands and feet were cold, knowing that his future had been ruined because of that sentence.
The other directors present were pale, obviously frightened by this incident. However, the adjutant on the video screen turned to the chairman with a smile and said, "Since the contract has been signed, I will send someone to the central city to welcome the new butler tomorrow."
“I think his name is Bhutto?”
"right."
The gray-haired chairman nodded calmly and said with a forced smile: "Bhutto is a good kid. Although he is young, he is very reliable. You can rest assured."
"That's good."
The man wearing gold-rimmed glasses in the video nodded with a smile and took the initiative to close the light curtain.
After the light curtain disappeared, the members of the Stewards' Council visibly relaxed, and the surrounding directors spoke out to comfort their old friend Colen.
Although they sympathize with Colen, in the final analysis, it was his own fault and these old guys really can't help him.
"What's going on with Bhutto?"
Looking at the scene not far away, the chairman did not move and deliberately lowered his voice.
Logically, Bhutto should also come to the meeting.
The secretary standing next to him hummed palely, "I don't know where the other party heard that the Marshal's previous three stewards all died for various reasons, and now they have been trying to cancel the contract."
This is not surprising.
After knowing this, any normal person would not want to become the marshal's butler.
"Send someone to do some ideological work on him."
The chairman thought of the mad dog-like behavior of the Sixth Base's army and wiped the sweat off his face. "We are leaving tomorrow. The contract has already been signed. How can we change it at will?"
The secretary also nodded cautiously.
They all knew the seriousness of the matter.
At least now Bhutto must not break the agreement.
"Why me, why?"
In the dark room, Bhutto huddled up and trembled continuously, with tears and snot all over his face: "There must be a better candidate, right?"
"Aibo, Willis, Gjip, Korenwei..." He read out the names of his former colleagues one by one, "Of all the people, why did you choose me?"
"I don't want to go to the border base. I don't want to serve the devil. Why me? Why should I be a shitty butler?"
As excited as he was at the beginning, he was as scared now. He really didn't want to die. Bhutto looked at a stack of white papers on the table, his tear-soaked eyes gradually becoming a little crazy.
That’s right, it’s all the contract’s fault, it’s all the contract’s fault!
Bhutto crawled desperately into the pile of debris, tremblingly picked up the dagger beside him, and stabbed it hard, one after another, and soon the thick contract was scraped into pieces.
—Snap
The dagger accidentally fell to the ground.
Bhutto stared at the pile of waste paper in a daze. His brief relief was replaced by despair. He couldn't help but cover his face and sob:
"Damn butler! Damn hero!"
Those housekeepers are all dead.
The autopsy report said that the cause of death was the bite of demonic insects, but in fact, those butlers were killed by the marshal.
Because they violated the marshal's taboo.
Bhutto knew that he would not be spared. He was not good enough and would definitely die at the hands of the marshal. He absolutely could not go to the Sixth Base.
The Marshal is a madman.
Even if he is a hero, no butler would want to serve him.
Why does he want to be a butler
If I had known earlier, I should have chosen my hobby and opened a flower shop, rather than going to the Sixth Base to die now.
Butoto's thoughts were all over the place. The fear of death made his head buzz. Tears kept flowing from his eyes. His face was covered with snot, and he looked very miserable.
The person next to him handed over a stack of tissues. Bhutto, immersed in pain and regret, hiccuped and reached out to take it.
"Thanks."
The person handing me the paper was quite considerate.
The tissue slowly fell to the ground.
Bhutto felt as if she was in an ice cellar.
There was a second person in the closed room.
When did the other party appear? How long did he watch? The small room was dark and silent. The fear of the unknown made his limbs cold and his head buzzing.
Faint moonlight leaked in from behind the curtains. Bhutto mustered up the courage to look up stiffly. A clown mask with a weird smile was almost only a fist away from his face.
Bhutto had difficulty breathing, a scream of fear lodged in his throat.
"Do you still want to cry?"
The exaggerated smile on the clown's mask stretched from ear to ear, twisted and weird, as if the clown could fulfill all his wishes as long as he said he wanted.
Bhutto's breathing almost stopped.
Even if he wanted to cry, he would only subconsciously shake his head at this time.
"Well, that's great!"
The other person seemed very happy and moved closer: "I spent a long time looking for tissues here, and you have used them all up. If you still want to cry, I may not be able to give you tissues."
The person under the mask appears to be a teenager.
If it were any other scenario, the other party could be described as enthusiastic, but at that moment, Bhutto felt it was even more creepy.
In fact, if anyone were to lock themselves in a room and cry alone, and a stranger wearing a clown mask suddenly appeared and enthusiastically handed them tissues, they would probably feel a chill down their spine.
He looked at the unknown creature that seemed to be playing dumb to lower his guard, and tears were about to well up again.
"What do you wanna do?"
Bhutto stuttered, gritting his teeth.
"I want to make a deal with you."
As if the question touched the clown's heart, his voice became a little lighter and he moved closer to Bhutto, almost face to face.
The grinning black clown mask seemed to be magnified several times in Bhutto's sight, and it exuded an increasingly ominous aura in the darkness. No one knew how he appeared here quietly.
"W-what deal?"
For a moment Bhutto felt that he was a demon from hell.
“A deal where neither side loses money.”
Something seemed to pass by behind the other person.
Bhutto was dazed for a moment after hearing that, and then he realized that it should be a black tail.
A tail that definitely does not belong to humans and exudes a dangerous aura.
****
A man in military uniform walked down from the aircraft. He was wearing a black gas mask, and the lower half of his face was covered tightly.
The light brain vibrated and made a sound.
Soran glanced down and connected the video.
Adjutant Mist, who was wearing gold-rimmed glasses, asked lazily, "You should have arrived at the designated location by now."
"arrive."
A dull response came from under the gas mask.
"That's good." Mist paused, "Come back as soon as possible after picking up the person. Before the marshal comes back, the new butler must familiarize himself with all matters here as soon as possible."
"Um."
"I remember the new housekeeper's name was..."
"Ya Xiao."
"Yes." Mist nodded without hesitation and said directly: "Remember not to talk too much with those people in the board of directors. You can't handle it."
The sound of footsteps could be heard faintly.
Soran glanced at the source of the sound and hung up the computer without paying any attention to his brother's chatter.
"Ya Xiao?"
A slightly cold and hard voice confirmed.
The black-haired boy in a tuxedo looked up. He was thin, carrying a suitcase in his hands, and his blue eyes were so bright that it was hard to ignore him.
As if realizing that the other party had come to pick him up, the boy smiled from the bottom of his heart and nodded sincerely and politely:
"Sorry to have kept you waiting."
(End of this chapter)