"Let's go up to the private room on the second floor; it's quiet there."
As he spoke, Fagga looked around.
Both the guests and the employees working there stared at them in horror.
Especially when they heard that there was a large group of gangs surrounding the coffee shop outside, they were all so frightened that no one dared to step out of the coffee shop.
Let's find a quiet place to chat then; knowing too much isn't a good thing.
"Ellen, remember to pay for the private room. Then go downstairs and keep watch for a while. If anything happens, remember to contact me."
Fagga waved his hand, pressed down his top hat, bowed his head, and went up to the second floor.
Seeing this, the old man also went up.
Only Eileen sighed and turned to look at the receptionist, who was trembling with fear.
"Hey, how much for a private room?"
Private rooms on the second floor.
"Speaking of which, you are not the 'master' of this commission, but rather your business partner."
When talking to the old man, Fagga's tone visibly turned colder, adopting a completely businesslike attitude.
"I don't know how he found out about the gang's ambush in advance. Then, 92 minutes ago, he commissioned Victoria Housekeeping to protect you and get you to a safe place."
"As you just heard, the commission is eight million dinis. It seems your business partner cares about you a lot."
The old man shook his head and chuckled, offering no explanation; it's best not to speak carelessly about business matters.
However, there was one thing that the old man cared about.
"Victoria Housekeeping?" The old man looked puzzled; he had never heard of this housekeeping company.
But the old man quickly realized his mistake and apologized: "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to question your professional competence."
"No problem!"
Fagar pressed his hand down, indicating that he didn't care: "We at Victoria Housekeeping mainly serve high-net-worth individuals and don't care about the widespread dissemination of our reputation; relying on the trust of our long-term clients, we don't lack commissions."
As he spoke, Fagga reached into his suit and soon placed a business card on the table, pushing it towards the old man.
The old man grabbed it, clenched his fist, didn't even glance at it, and stuffed it directly into the inside pocket of his suit jacket.
Fagar narrowed his eyes slightly. It seemed that whether the old man would make the call from above in the future depended entirely on how well this commission was handled.
Farga opened his laptop, but instead of turning off the monitoring, he opened a map of New Elidu.
Zoom in on the map and focus on the area around the coffee shop.
The locations of the gangs identified on the surveillance footage were then marked with red dots on the map.
Incidentally, Fagar also divided the map into layers.
Immediately afterward, Fagar pressed his earpiece and said, "Lina, I've sent you the gang distribution map. I'll leave it to you from now on."
Soon, familiar, gentle words came through the headphones, sending shivers down my spine.
"Received!"
The old man was puzzled and quickly asked, "What are you planning to do?"
"Let's deliver results to the Public Security Bureau, let's go, no one can stop us now."
Fagar stood up, tidied his desk, put his laptop in his bag, and strode downstairs.
The old man quickly followed, and as soon as he went downstairs, he heard police sirens. More than ten police cars surrounded the coffee shop, making it impossible to pass through.
Hearing footsteps, Eileen turned around and looked at them, her face expressionless. "Lina made this?"
"Well, to give the Public Security Bureau some face, we'll go through the back door."
Fagga checked his phone; it was getting late.
Eileen nodded to herself. Victoria Housekeeping's car was parked at the back door, just in time for this.
Without hesitation, Fagga went first, followed by Elaine, protecting the old man in the middle.
Shortly after, Fagga pushed aside the food cart blocking the back door, yanked open the back door, and quickly pulled the old man behind it.
"They've opened the door, fire!"
With a roar, hundreds of needles were fired simultaneously, turning the carpet into a hedgehog.
If I'm not mistaken, the syringe should contain an anesthetic.
Those gangs need to live!
"What do we do now?"
The old man yelled at Fagga, "The gang is blocking the outside, they can't get out at all!"
“Just fire it out,” Fagar replied.
"What?"
The old man suddenly realized that Fagar had gone mad. Powerful gangs had guns, and perhaps even more powerful weapons.
Are we just going to charge in like this?
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