The Demon’s Menu

Chapter 533: There are always some fools in the world

The bearded man’s head drooped slightly as he reached up to grab the arrow that had embedded itself in his throat, his eyes filled with disbelief.

"Heh, heh."

He tried to say something, but as words reached his throat, his voice involuntarily shifted into a kind of exhausted low chuckle, replete with both eeriness and ferocity.

Feeling life slip away rapidly, the bearded man’s instincts told him to pull the trigger, intent on taking his target down with him, but by then his fingers had stiffened, rendering him incapable of action.

Gurgle.

A string of black blood bubbles emerged from his mouth.

The bearded man’s body stiffened, going utterly silent.

The bubbles joined into a flow, tracing a path down from his mouth.

Dark as ink, they sent shivers down the spine of all those who saw.

And with a kind of violent poison at that!

Contact with blood meant instant death!

The Butler straightened up, looking at the corpse inside the vehicle with complex emotions in his eyes.

"Sorry."

"I’m not ready to die yet."

"At least, I can’t die now."

As he said this, the Butler dragged the corpse out of the vehicle.

He didn’t dispose of it carelessly. Instead, after removing the arrow from the body’s neck, he took a shovel from the pickup’s bed and dug a hole in the soft soil beside him, dragging the body into it.

As for why there would be a shovel in the pickup?

The answer went without saying.

The bearded man buried in the hole was evidence enough.

It’s just that the person who buried him differed.

After refilling the hole, the Butler, carrying the shovel, made his way back to the roadside, returned the shovel to the pickup’s bed, washed his hands with a bottle of water, wiped them, put on white gloves again, and got into the vehicle. ???????

He didn’t leave Cherry City.

The Butler drove the vehicle back to Cherry City.

222 Potato Street, located in the southern district of Cherry City.

The Butler headed straight for this place.

Compared to the wealthy district, this was the perfect choice for those with some assets but not truly affluent.

Naturally, the environment here was quite nice, with a row of buildings that were not only aligned but each had its own little garden.

No. 222 stood out as even more refined, with a prettier flowerbed and a small fountain, although the fountain was not operating during the deep of the night.

And on the stone pillars flanking the gate, the one on the right hand side had a palm-sized gargoyle crouched on top of it.

The gargoyle was very small but lifelike.

Of course, what’s more important was that inside the slightly open mouth of the gargoyle, there was a camera capable of clearly observing everything around it.

Consequently, as soon as the car stopped in front of the door, and the Butler got out, the iron gate clicked open on its own.

The Butler entered the courtyard, closed the door behind him, and with ease made his way into the house.

Inside the house, someone was already waiting for him.

A man with a somewhat gaunt figure and a grim expression sat at the end of the corridor.

Clad in home attire, he indicated clearly that he was the true master of the house.

Seeing the Butler walk in, this host displayed a very friendly demeanor.

"Good evening, Findelter," he said and matched his words with a smile.

The smile tried to appear warm, but to the average person, it looked more like a jackal baring its teeth.

It wasn’t just ferocious; it was filled with greed, as though ready to devour someone at any moment.

"Good evening, Troys," the Butler responded, his face showing hesitation and discomfort.

This tension made Troys laugh.

He, of course, knew why the Butler held such an expression.

Everything was within his expectations.

So, the master of the house stood and approached the Butler, placed a hand on his shoulder as if to offer concern, and said:

"What’s the matter, Findelter?"

"You can tell me."

"We’re friends," Troys assured him with a sincere look.

"I was discovered by Lord Dodd, and just now Pang’er sent an assassin after me," the Butler confessed through clenched teeth, laying bare his recent brush with death.

"Is that so?"

"This is even more intense than we imagined, but not to worry, had we not prepared for the worst before this?" Troys reassured the Butler.

Then he paused and asked, "Did you bring the item?"

"I brought it."

"This contains Mr. Emod’s account book."

The Butler produced a flash drive from his clothes but did not hand it over immediately to Troys. His face filled with guilt, he hesitated for two full seconds before finally extending his hand.

"Please remember the promise you made to me, Mr. Troys," the Butler emphasized.

"Of course."

Troys took the flash drive and walked over to his desk to check its contents on his computer. After verifying what was inside, a smug smile formed on his lips. He looked up at the Butler and said, "Regarding the whereabouts of your former employer ’Edward,’ in fact, I’ve already obtained some clues."

With those words, Troys pulled open a drawer next to him, taking out a brown paper bag.

"This is all the information I’ve gathered," he said.

"Thank you! I’m so very grateful," the Butler said, his hands trembling with emotion as he eagerly grabbed the paper bag from the desk.

But at that moment, Troys got up from behind the office desk and circled behind the Butler. The Butler, fully focused on the paper bag, failed to notice Troys’ movements until a dagger pierced through his waist.

Thud!

The Butler, in the midst of opening the paper bag, shuddered; the bag fell to the ground.