“France is great.” I had plans of politely complimenting his country, but perhaps because I’m used to lampooning, I almost blurt out: “Great at surrendering.”

“Cough…” I cough dryly and say no more, lest he finds Chinese-styled sense of humor unacceptable.

After chatting for a while, I point in the direction of the airport.

“Mr. Zaratulstra will take a few more hours before he arrives. Shall we head inside and have something to drink?”

“Wine?” Rosago looks at me.

“No. I mean coffee, tea, cola, and so on. Don’t drink and drive.” I’m surprised that his first reaction towards the suggestion is wine.

You’re a professional chauffeur!

Aren’t you a little too rash?

The foreigner, Rosago, clearly didn’t understand my humor. After thinking for a few seconds, he says, “Sorry, I woke up too early today and am still a little sleepy. I’ll be sleeping in the car for a while.”

“Okay.” I secretly breathe a sigh of relief.

Although I’m not against social interactions, and I’m even willing to be on good terms with people from a partnered company, I still feel a little uncomfortable thinking about having to spend a few hours with a stranger I’m not familiar with.

Even if the other party were a beauty, this feeling wouldn’t be any less.

Yes, that’s the case for me. Perhaps he shares the same thoughts. That’s probably why he chose to sleep in the car.

Returning from the parking lot to the airport, I randomly find an empty seat and sit down, not putting what I said about drinking something into practice.

It all costs money!

Based on my understanding of CEO Huang, he’s quite generous. But at the same time, as the big boss, he wouldn’t pay attention to the reimbursements of a mere employee. These sorts of trivial matters are usually handled by the finance department that follows a particular procedure.

Therefore, if I waited until noon at the airport, I would definitely be able to claim the expenses for lunch, but I would have to bear the expenses for coffee, cola, tea, snacks, etc. Those are unnecessary expenses.

Of course, if I could get Comrade Rosago to join me for the meal, then I would be able to claim such expenses—client entertainment!

For this reason, when I invited him earlier, I was actually quite sincere. At least half of it was true.

After sitting for a while and using my phone, I suddenly realize a serious issue:

I hadn’t had breakfast yet!

I had left in a hurry this morning!

As I listen to the rumbling of my stomach and feel my thirst and hunger, I decide to find something to eat.

Food at the airport is expensive. Shall I look for KFC or McDonalds, or get some random slice of bread? I stand up and head to the side of the lobby.

When I see the first shop that looks like it sells local delights, I turn in and look for food that’s cost-efficient.

My phone buzzes as I approach the frozen foods section.

“Hello, Mr. Rosago. What’s the matter?” I glance at the caller ID.

Rosago’s voice comes from the other end of the line:

“Ning Bei is undergoing a thunderstorm. All flights are canceled.

“Mr. Zaratulstra will switch to using the high-speed railway.”

Isn’t this fellow too unlucky… I’m amused yet helpless.

“Then shall we wait at the railway station?”

There’s definitely more than enough time because the high-speed railway station is just below the airport.

Even if Mr. Zaratul couldn’t buy a ticket to stop at this station, it would take a maximum of 90 minutes from the airport to the municipal high-speed railway station. It takes less time than the time it takes from Ning Bei to this city.

“Wait a little longer. I’ll wait for confirmation,” Rosago replies calmly.

As we speak, I see the door to the ice cabinet push open. A small, fair, fat hand reaches in and picks up a Baxy-branded white peach oolong-flavored ice cream.

I trace this hand and see a child that looks around one year old.

I have no clue regarding its gender. Sitting in a pram, its face is chubby and it cannot stop chirping. It’s really adorable.

Such a young child eating ice cream? The parents are so irresponsible! I gaze up at the adult pushing the pram, and find a gentle, beautiful woman.

I have no intention of stopping them. It’s none of my business.

As long as they don’t abuse the child, all I’ll do is lampoon.

However, is letting a one-year-old eat ice cream a form of abuse?

Anyways, the child appears quite happy.

After hanging up the phone, I consider the possibility that we have to rush over to the high-speed railway station at any time. I simply make a choice, getting some packaged pastries and bottled water before paying for it at the cashier.

Just as I find a place to sit down and quickly finish breakfast, Rosago calls again.

“The tickets for today’s high-speed railway have been sold out. Mr. Zaratulstra will have to stay there and come tomorrow.”

He sure is filled with bad luck… That’s good too. I can head back directly. I don’t have to wait until noon or head to the railway station… I tersely acknowledge.

“Then let’s head back first?”

“Yes, we’ll come again tomorrow,” Rosago says immediately. “Come to the parking lot. I’ll send you back. I’m returning to the city anyway.”

“…Sure,” I reply with a smile.

It’s not that I’m saving money and being greedy. After all, I can also claim my travel expenses for my trip back.

However, there’s nothing wrong with having good relations with the employees of a partnered company at work.

Even if I don’t end up getting an additional order, it gives me another outlet for job-hopping in the future.

The only problem is how I’ll get along with him later.

It can be quite awkward if two unfamiliar people were to get together.

Let’s just talk about work. It’s only about an hour anyway… I console myself. I leave the airport and find Rosago and his Mercedes.

I get into the car and buckle my seatbelt. Before I can say anything, Rosago turns his head to give me a glance.

“Sit tight.”

Huh? I feel lost for a moment.

The next second, the car starts and speeds off.

Hey, hey, hey, hey. This is still a parking lot. You’re driving too fast! Ah!

After a series of bends, the car slows down and exits the parking lot through the gantry.

Then, the Mercedes continues to race. It swerves left and right on the road, taking up any empty spots. Not only is he on the verge of exceeding the speed limit, but he also shows no signs of stopping.

On several occasions, I imagined that there would be a car accident, but with Rosago’s control, the car nimbly avoids danger.

“This—aren’t you driving too fast?” I ask, coming back to my senses and gulping.

“Don’t worry. I used to be a racer,” Rosago says as he looks ahead, his eyes bright.

But isn’t it too fast? This is a city road, not a race track… I lampoon nervously.

I don’t dare to say another word, afraid that Master Rosago would be distracted and might end up hitting a guardrail or harming the innocent.

At this moment, I recall my ability as an Assassin. I decide that if anything were to go wrong, I would jump out of the car to seek refuge or forcefully control Rosago to stop the vehicle.

40 minutes later, the racing car stops outside the building where my company is located.

“…Thank you. Thank you.” My face is a little pale as I unbuckle the seat belt.

If it weren’t for my abilities as an Assassin and my outstanding balance, I definitely would’ve gotten carsick and puked all over the ground.

“You’re welcome. See you tomorrow.” Rosago waves with a smile.

“…” I exhale and bid the racer farewell.

Entering the building, I glance subconsciously at the spot where the vending machine had appeared. It’s empty.

Fortunately… I head upstairs and press the “up” button.

As I wait, I lower my head and straighten my clothes.

Suddenly, a pair of long legs wearing leather boots walk over.