"Trouble-Free Grocery!"
Arthur said so.
Wiggins found the na quite appealing. This streetwise Golden Finger imdiately wanted to echo his sovereign with courtly agreent, like a subject in a biographical novel, but he scratched his head and stamred out awkwardly after a long thought.
"Good na, really good na."
Having said that, he looked at Arthur with a face full of unease.
Of course, Arthur was not one to split hairs over such a matter.
He was well aware that Wiggins's forte did not lie herein.
If he wanted to hear pleasing words, he could randomly pull one of Malz's patrol officers, and they could shower him with complints. However, when it ca to managing the Rat Street territory and the Golden Fingers, probably the whole patrol team would not be as effective as Wiggins alone.
Arthur patted Wiggins's shoulder lightly.
"That place is in your hands now, Wiggins!"
"Yes, my lord!"
Feeling Arthur's trust, Wiggins's discomfort and anxiety vanished in an instant. He bowed and then left No. 2 Cork Street at a brisk pace.
Borrowing Fujin's gaze, Arthur murmured to himself as he watched the Golden Finger's retreating figure.
'Trouble-Free.
To unravel all worries and sorrows.
What a pity...
There's no mail slot.'
With that thought, Arthur allowed himself a self-mocking smile.
He knew all too well that, in ti, 'Trouble-Free Grocery' would live up to its na—not just the assortnt of good-quality, reasonably priced goods would bring joy to the residents of Rat Street and alleviate so of their worries, but as ti went on, the influence of these value-for-money products would truly erge.
And that was what he valued.
Not just the 'na,' but the profit and power beneath the 'na.'
He wanted it all!
He sighed inwardly, 'It should have been called Peaceful Grocery!'
With such thoughts, Arthur began to prepare Pendragon for the cage, pocketed 'Ms. Anna,' put on his coat—he was ready to head to the police station.
As the Special Consultant of Shire District Police Station, it was only proper to be punctual for work.
Moreover, there was so news he was waiting for.
It most certainly wasn't alti.
And it wasn't because he was too lazy to cook lunch.
It just so happened that he was waiting for news, his stomach just so happened to be growling, and he just so happened to coincide with lunchti at the police station.
And besides, he who had alleviated so of the worries for the residents of Rat Street, surely he deserved two pounds of roasted pork ribs, a whole smoked sausage (around 300 grams), chicken salad, white bread (200 grams), two spoons of butter (5 grams each), a pinch of salt, black pepper (about 5 grams), and sweet beets stewed with extra sugar, didn't he?
He was indeed worthy!
So, Arthur spread Malz's butter and honey on his white bread without any reservations.
The old sheriff didn't mind at all.
Compared to butter and honey, he preferred pepper and salt.
Of course, it was also because at that mont, the old sheriff was more focused on the 'Police Chief.'
Or, to be precise, his concern arose after seeing Pendragon dive beak-first into the cat bowl and a third of the kibble disappeared rapidly, making him worry about the 'Police Chief' that was eating one piece at a ti.
Why does my cat eat so little?
Could it be sick?
Should I find a veterinarian to have a look?
"Arthur, does Pan always eat like this?"
Eventually, the old sheriff couldn't help but ask.
"Mm-hm, every ti."
Arthur nodded while clamping one end of a rib with his mouth, gently tugged at it, and with a slight suck, the at from the entire rib slid into his mouth.
Watching Arthur chew with great relish, the old sheriff subconsciously glanced again at Pendragon, who was also eating heartily.
All of a sudden, he realized it might not be the 'Police Chief' that had an issue.
But it was him!
At that mont, the old sheriff's look toward the slender 'Police Chief' was filled with even more pity.
'Maybe after work I should talk with Amanda about adjusting the 'Police Chief's' diet—we might not be able to eat a lot, but we can eat more delicately.'
The old sheriff was thinking this when he heard Arthur say, his words muffled by food,
"Kuke is one of us now."
"What?"
The old sheriff was taken aback.
Surprise filled the old sheriff's eyes.
Kuke, he had been preparing to put in a great effort to win him over.
But unexpectedly, after just one eting with Arthur, he had imdiately pledged his loyalty.
Even accustod to Arthur's "Miracle", the old sheriff couldn't help but sigh inwardly.
Afterward, however, he felt a sense of relief.
After all, that was Arthur!
The old sheriff, watching Arthur wolf down his al, had unwavering confidence in his eyes—he knew that as long as he followed this partner, he would have to learn that sense of relief.
'Arthur's "Miracle"…
It's capable of creating miracles!'
The old sheriff thought to himself, his gaze naturally drifting towards the outside of the office.
Andy, whom he had t several tis, was now leaning back in his chair, dozing off, but still clutching a long firearm in his hands.
Looney, who had previously been a complete stranger, was now wrapped up like a mummy, yet biting on his finger and seriously perusing case files.
Dico, on the other hand, was checking the injuries on his face with a mirror, and whenever he looked up, he would reveal a sorrowful expression.
The three of them were completely different from before.
Gone was the lifelessness and the just-getting-by attitude; they were now full of vigor.
And under the leadership of these three, the patrol officers in the lobby were also filled with enthusiasm.
This was sothing he couldn't have imagined before.
And now?
It had all happened!
The old sheriff was well aware that this was all thanks to Arthur.
The old sheriff was even more aware that if things continued this way…
It would be the mont when real miracles would occur.
And him?
He wanted to see.
Just as the old sheriff was fantasizing about what that exciting mont would look like, Simon ca rushing in from the small square outside, charging straight into the lobby, heading for the office.
It's happening!
The old sheriff and Arthur were both instantly invigorated.
Simon's absence from the lobby naturally ant he had a mission—keeping an eye on Jas!
Thud, thud thud!
"Co in!"
"Police Chief, Jas has disappeared; his n are all in chaos, and I've had our people take control of them.
We've also got his lover under control," Simon imdiately reported as he entered.
"Disappeared?"
"He must have run away!" the old sheriff said with a laugh.
Malz wasn't surprised by the decision of Jas to run away.
Although the other party was from a gang background and was known for his brutality, that was when he was young—a ti when he dared to fight and scrape. But now?
Apart from showing off a peculiar kind of brutality with candle drippings in the bedroom or a flourish of a whip, he could only seek the glorious days of old in his dreams.
This type of highly private information was well-known in a certain circle in Dort District.
More than one lady from the club had complained about the police chief in private.
And then?
Certain people in Shire District, Docklands, and both the new and Old Town ca to know about it.
As a result, five years ago, the police chief of Dort District began to refuse going to clubs and chose to keep lovers instead.
Moreover, it seed to prove that he was still capable, the police chief of Dort District once kept a large number of lovers for a while, but eventually he ca to accept reality.
Rumors had it that there was only one lover left by the side of the police chief of Dort District.
There were also rumors that this lover was the person he trusted the most.
However, it now seed that the police chief of Dort District always trusted himself above all.
Of course, Malz didn't care, and the old sheriff said with a sowhat playful tone—
"With so many people watching him, our Jas the Police Chief wouldn't die on the road, would he?"
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