Frederick Shaw shook his head and said there was none, "The patrolling soldiers brought back the ssage that he specifically asked for you to see him."
Sheffield Benedict said he understood.
Frederick Shaw couldn’t figure out Sheffield Benedict’s attitude and asked another question, "Do you really plan to et with him?"
Sheffield Benedict’s expression was indifferent, and his lips carried a polite but distant smile, "Why shouldn’t I go?"
"But that’s a wanderer, I worry for your safety," Frederick Shaw said.
Wanderers, to put it nicely, are called wanderers, but in plain terms, they’re just a group of planet refugees.
Their own planets were occupied and destroyed, leaving them with no choice but to roam around.
At first, nobody cared, but later on, for so reason, they gathered together and gradually coalesced into a force.
They might not have many in numbers, and their weapons weren’t advanced, surviving by the thuggish thod of "shoot and scoot."
Eventually, a few powers couldn’t stand it anymore and united to try to annihilate the wanderers in one fell swoop.
On that day, no less than one hundred thousand went.
Even the imperial royal family dispatched a ch troop.
Yet, even with this, they failed to eliminate them.
For the royal family, these wanderers were like roaches hiding everywhere, impossible to exterminate, always finding a way to co out and irritate them from ti to ti.
Frederick Shaw was worried that the wanderers would not play by the rules, but Sheffield Benedict was not concerned.
"It’s just a eting, there won’t be any accidents."
Frederick Shaw had nothing more to say.
...
On the day of the eting, Frederick Shaw had nearly called in an entire ch troop.
They were all fully ard.
On the wanderer’s side, only Sixth Hoffman showed up.
He didn’t bring any weapons, just a bottle of alcohol, hung on his waist.
He must have taken a few swigs before coming, as he walked sowhat unsteadily.
Seeing so many on the opposite side, he whistled, "Whoa, that’s quite the lineup. Anyone who didn’t know better would think I, Sixth Hoffman, am a wanted man."
Not "am", but "also am."
Sheffield Benedict instantly caught the sarcasm in Sixth Hoffman’s words.
Frederick Shaw shouted, "You are a fugitive, no point in pretending otherwise."
Sixth Hoffman slapped his thigh, "Look at that, I’d forgotten. The people after are too many; your empire might have to wait in line."
His speech was flippant, his laughter insincere.
Sheffield Benedict stepped forward, "I’m here, what do you want to talk to about?"
Sixth Hoffman scratched his chin, the beard making a "chitchat" sound, "I do want to talk, but with so many people, it’s not convenient."
His expression showed difficulty as his eyes went to Frederick Shaw who had just spoken.
Frederick Shaw’s face tensed as he stepped forward, "Don’t listen to him; wanderers don’t follow rules. If we leave..."
"Hey, what way is that to talk!" Sixth Hoffman interrupted, "Talking about not following rules, who can compare to your imperial royal family? What, did you do too many conscienceless deeds in the past, now feeling guilty, or just afraid of retribution?"
Those standing here knew sothing about what happened in the past.
Especially Frederick Shaw.
After all, Hannah was once his direct superior.
Just as the argunt was about to escalate, Sheffield Benedict spoke up, "Alright, I’ll go with you."
Frederick Shaw’s eyes widened, "You can’t..."
Sheffield Benedict shook his head, signaling him not to speak.
Sixth Hoffman took a drink on the side, "I say, have you decided yet, or haven’t you? I am just asking a question, not marrying him, all this dilly-dallying."
"Sixth Hoffman!" Frederick Shaw pointed at him and cursed, "Don’t spout such nonsense!"
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