Spy Waiter: "You can kill me or chop me up, but I won't...
Although I have more than ten chefs in my manor who are proficient in cuisines from all over the world and can adjust the most nutritious dinner ratio for me at any time, and my company's transportation team can also deliver delicacies from all over the world to me at any time, I don’t plan to eat in the manor tonight. It’s also interesting to go out for a meal occasionally.
The restaurant we went to today is a membership-based restaurant that only accepts 10 guests a day. I have a VIP black card here, so I can come and sit at any time.
The private room on the top floor has been decorated in a theme that matches today's dishes. I stood by the huge floor-to-ceiling window, looked down, and nodded with satisfaction. The view was pretty good.
There was a knock on the door and the dishes began to be served. The chefs, all dressed in neat white uniforms, pushed the food carts and presented the dishes one by one. The standard of today's dishes was still normal.
Halfway through the meal, there was a knock on the door and a handsome waiter walked in.
He walked up to me with a plate of West Lake vinegar fish in his hand and wanted to put it next to me.
The bodyguard beside me stopped him alertly, "Who are you?"
The waiter lowered his head, "I'm the waiter here, this is your dish."
The personal secretary stepped forward and said, "I'm sorry, this dish is not on our president's menu tonight."
The waiter seemed a little anxious and looked in my direction. "Sorry, I might have made a mistake."
I noticed that he had a pair of big, round eyes, curled eyelashes and rosy lips. He bit his lip at me, with pleading eyes, and looked very pitiful.
I stabbed a steak.
Seeing that I didn't respond, the waiter stepped back.
After a while, there was another knock on the door, and this time he came up with a plate of exquisite desserts.
"To express my apology, this is a dessert for you."
Oh? Interesting.
I raised my eyebrows and waved my hand, and the bodyguards and personal secretary made way.
There were actually two candied haws on the dish.
These were two candied haws of very poor quality, the syrup on top looked like a pile of shit.
I frowned. “What is this?”
“This is a candied haws.”
The service provider bit his lip and said, "This is a candied haws that I made myself. I think you may be used to those exquisite desserts. It may be novel to eat a snack with a flavor of fireworks occasionally."
The waiter looked at me cautiously, like a pitiful little rabbit.
I feel confused.
Who gave him the illusion that I would eat something of unknown origin?
Who gave him the misunderstanding that made him think that I, a president with businesses spanning various fields, would not know about candied haws?
Besides, any vendor selling candied haws outside make better candied haws than he does. If he takes these two strings of candied haws to sell at the school gate, the school will no longer have to worry about students eating at street stalls.
How on earth did he have the guts to bring this to me?
I met so many strange people today.
Intuitively, I felt that something was wrong with him, so I looked at him intently. Sure enough, I saw five parts of pity, three parts of nervousness, and two parts of hostility in his eyes.
The psychological trauma that the secretary brought to me today has not yet dissipated. Almost instantly, I confirmed his identity - he must be a spy who wanted to steal my company's secrets.
Got you.
I smiled evilly.
As I looked at him, his face slowly turned red and he clenched his fists as if he had made up his mind.
"Guest, please don't let our boss fire me. I really need this job. I will do anything as long as you let me stay."
As he spoke, his hand tremblingly reached for the button on his neck.
I waved my hand, signaling the bodyguards to take him down.
When he was pressed to the ground, his eyes flashed with three parts of shyness, three parts of anger and four parts of panic.
I glanced at him calmly.
I don’t know what wrong message this look conveyed to him. He struggled and no longer looked as pitiful as before.
"Tyrant! You can kill me or chop me up as you like. I will never yield."
There are three bodyguards on him, so is it his turn to decide whether to surrender or not?
I waved my hand and let the bodyguards drag him away. After a while, the sirens sounded again.
What a stupid honey trap.
I snorted disdainfully.
A sarcastic smile appeared on his face, like a pie-shaped chart.
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