Trickster sighed, looking helpless as he sat there.
"Alright. If I need your help with anything, I’ll call you," Owen Lewis said.
He thought for a mont. Lately, he and Annie Davidson had been on their honeymoon, so he hadn’t managed much of his business. He had co here this ti partly to see if there were any oversights. Although Maxwell Peary had instructed him to bring so operations into the open, assuring him that he [Maxwell] would personally oversee the business here, Owen Lewis was still uneasy. Moreover, dealing with the public-facing matters was a real headache for him. He also had no idea when Alan Morgan, who always failed him at crucial monts, would return.
"That works. With those words from Young Master Lewis, I can rest easy," Trickster said with a smirk, then stood up and left.
Watching Trickster walk away, the smile on Owen Lewis’s face gradually faded.
As he walked into the Black Market, he began undressing.
Suit... tie... shirt...
Until his bare upper body was exposed to the air, revealing a wolf tattoo that seed ready to spring to life at any mont.
"Young Master Lewis!"
"Young Master Lewis!"
"Young Master Lewis!"
Everyone he passed greeted him one after another.
Seeing him shirtless, everyone was a bit puzzled, wondering what was wrong with Young Master Lewis today.
In the Black Market, many people walked around shirtless, so it wasn’t unusual.
But today, it was Owen Lewis, the rumored Young Master Lewis, who was shirtless.
Owen Lewis walked to the innermost part of the Black Market, took an elevator down four floors, and arrived at his room.
This place was his real ho. He spent most of his ti here throughout the year.
He casually put on a black shirt, adjusted his cuffs, and exited the room.
"Young Master!"
The people here addressed him without using his family na.
"Mm, go investigate what Trickster is doing here."
"Yes."
Within five minutes, the man reappeared.
"Young Master, our investigation found that Trickster ordered a shipnt of goods on the third floor. The value is quite high."
Owen Lewis frowned. He reached out, picked up the gun in front of him, and idly stroked its surface.
"Cut off his supply."
"But..."
Assassins were a dangerous group to offend. And Trickster, of all people, was the most troubleso and cunning one in their ranks.
"Execute!"
"Yes!"
Upon receiving the order, the man imdiately went to the third floor.
Owen Lewis sat back down, crossing his legs.
Trickster? Did he really think he was so skilled? Daring to play tricks right in front of . Just now, when we sat down, Trickster feigned a punch but actually planted at least three trackers and eavesdropping devices on my body. Did he think I wouldn’t notice? His hands were fast, sure, but my eyes aren’t just for decoration. Playing these kinds of gas in front of —isn’t that clearly making an enemy of ? He even had the gall to make walk around the Black Market shirtless. Truly audacious.
The mont his shipnt was cut off, news reached Trickster’s ears. Coupled with the silence from his trackers and bugs, he quickly guessed the reason.
Owen Lewis? As expected, not to be underestimated. No wonder he’s Young Master Peary’s right-hand man. However... Young Master Peary should have an assassin by his side. Even the most vicious criminals could sleep soundly under Young Master Peary’s protection.
So, he quickly made a phone call to his friends.
"Help investigate Owen Lewis. I want all his information."
Owen Lewis... he’s a potential way to get to Maxwell Peary.
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