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"The Tulip Duke Legend" is a lodramatic romance novel about an obscure individual who, by chance, encounters a royal princess and eventually becos a duke.

Typically, this type of book is a favorite among girls.

I hadn’t expected Thompson, at such a young age, to enjoy this kind of stuff.

As Thompson was copying down each character, noticing Dean’s strange gaze, he rolled his eyes and said, "I only read these books to have more to talk about with female classmates."

"But before, you couldn’t even find a girlfriend."

"Yes, I’ve found it weird too. They seed to enjoy chatting with , but they all ended up becoming my close female confidantes. That is, until I followed your advice and finally managed to win them over."

"Them?"

"Yeah, why else do you think I got beaten up today? Dean, you only taught how to win over won, but not how to deal with several of them at once, especially when they clash!"

Dean was thoroughly impressed.

There were many numbers on the sheepskin scroll, but Thompson worked quickly. Before long, a long line of transcribed text appeared before them:

This is but a modest treasure, yet it will guide you to a vast fortune of 120 tons of gold.

The treasure is near Hagar Lake, in the Hagar Mountains.

At midnight.

Stand on the east side of the lake and gaze toward the bright moon in the water.

It will guide you to where the treasure lies.

--Tagore Morgan

"Dean, is this actually a real treasure?"

"Yes, but it’s none of your business; I’m not letting you get involved!" Dean showed his little brother what it ant to burn the bridge at lightning speed.

Thompson, his face bruised and swollen, said aggrievedly, "But you promised!"

Dean chuckled mischievously, "I rely told you that you could have a share after I find it, but I never said I’d take you with ."

"Don’t be like this. I won’t ask you to teach how to handle multiple girlfriends anymore. Just take with you, Dean. I have a rapid-fire crossbow that is extrely accurate; I can be of help!"

Thompson tried to struggle further.

For soone his age, the adventure and treasure hunting seen only in movies was undoubtedly more appealing than any girlfriend.

Thompson’s pleas might have worked on the stubborn yet tender-hearted Sheila.

But Dean was not to be swayed.

Once he made a decision, he wouldn’t change it easily!

If it hadn’t been for that online photo, I wouldn’t have minded taking my little brother along to broaden his horizons, to see things most peers wouldn’t have the chance to encounter.

But the online photo made realize this matter might not be as simple as it seed; it could even be dangerous.

In that case, I didn’t want my little brother to get too deeply involved, nor did I want him to witness my cruel side when the ti ca.

In my heart, the image I presented to my family should always be one of reliability and warmth, not coldness and cruelty.

This ntality was like so of those damn authors who hate to share the titles of their novels with people close to them.

Forcefully suppressing his little brother, who was ready to revolt, Dean returned to his room, satisfied. He pulled out his mobile phone and called Anthony.

When the call connected, Anthony’s hoarse voice, tinged with weariness, said, "Dean, I’m pleased to receive your call. How are your microexpression analysis studies going?"

"Not bad, and I’ve also managed to pick up Massa’s Trace Tracking."

"HEH HEH."

Anthony chuckled, unconcerned.

These skills are not easy to master, practicing them is difficult, and accumulating experience takes ti—even for geniuses. So he thought Dean was just joking.

"Alright, Dean, I’m a bit tied up here and don’t have much ti. Is there anything else?"

"Tutor, I wanted to ask if you know who Tagore Morgan is."

In the West, surnas were originally exclusive to the nobility.

In Dean’s previous life, the Morgan Family was a colossal financial conglorate spanning North Arica and Europe—so vast it was difficult to conceal.

But in this parallel world, Dean hadn’t found anything special associated with the Morgan surna.

After all, they were two different worlds, so Dean hadn’t delved any further.

"Tagore Morgan?"

"Dean, are you sure it’s Tagore Morgan!" Anthony’s voice beca excited upon hearing the na. "That na, very few people are aware of it. Dean, where did you hear about it?"

He actually knows! Dean subconsciously gulped. Doesn’t that an the 120 tons of gold are real too?

The price of gold fluctuates daily. Currently, one ounce of gold is around $870. 120 tons... that’s about 4,232,875 ounces of gold. The central banks of many small countries don’t even hold such vast gold reserves. This is a fortune close to $4 billion! Even if the purity isn’t perfect, it’s still enough to drive many people insane.

So, Dean recounted in detail how he found the treasure map, and also ntioned what he had discovered online.

He hadn’t approached Anthony because he lacked ways to look up information on Tagore Morgan; rather, he wanted Anthony’s help to find the person lurking online!

One must be self-aware. My philosophy regarding money has always been: it’s great to have it, but if not, I can find other ways. Safety is paramount!

Little did Dean know, upon hearing his words, Anthony let out a grating, hoarse laugh. "The photo online was bait planted by our family. I’m glad you trust so much, Dean. It has kept you from a dangerous situation."

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