Mystery: Outlander Gods of Bloodborne

Chapter 7 Minsk Office
The Minsk office in the Jowood District has a pivotal position in the legal circle of the Kingdom of Loen.Although the relationship with Duke Negan was not mentioned, his excellent salary and stable capital chain still attracted many barristers.

He has always had a solid reputation as a litigator, no, an appeal.

Located on the outskirts of the most prosperous business district in Backlund, there are always no shortage of gorgeously dressed nobles coming and going at the entrance of the Minsk office.

For these customers, the firm spent huge sums of money on luxurious decoration.The reception hall is resplendent and resplendent, using the marble floor that was popular during the period of Emperor Russell the Great. Even the wooden table at the front desk is hand-carved walnut, worth nearly a hundred pounds.

On the second day after saying goodbye to Klein, Jagel was sitting face to face with a middle-aged lawyer with half-gray hair, sitting on the second floor of this building full of aristocratic corruption.

"If Liszt hadn't just broken his leg, we wouldn't have recruited assistants rashly." Middle-aged lawyer Edmund Winchester said to his new assistant while stirring the Nanruen green tea in front of him.

"Assistant work is tedious, especially for someone with no experience. To be honest, I'm not sure if you're up to the job, despite your excellent resume."

"Don't worry, I will study hard." Yagel nodded sincerely holding his notebook.

Heh, if you can't learn it, you can only have Liszt's leg broken for another month. Anyway, the work injury subsidy is more than the salary.

He sneered inwardly.

During the conversation, Yager just leaned forward a little and moved into the sunlight.

His deep black eyes shone with colorful brilliance, and the soft facial lines made his temperament coincide with that of a pianist playing in a concert hall.

It is the most popular style among the noble ladies of Backlund nowadays.

Seeing this scene, Edmund got stuck in his heartbroken preaching, and after a while, he swallowed it back.

"Er, I believe there is no problem with you." He took a sip of tea in a disguised manner, "Your etiquette is very good and excellent, I believe the ladies will be satisfied."

Yager looked up at him suspiciously: "Don't male nobles like my etiquette?"

"Uh, this, some people like it too." Edmund said stutteringly, his eyes wandering for a few moments.

"Anyway, anyway, ahem." He turned serious.

"First of all, go to Ms. Molly from the Finance Department to collect funds. Your suit must be at least one handmade, pure black suit in a custom shop in the city center. A poorly dressed assistant will affect the client's judgment of my level."

Yager silently wrote down the words 'Funds for Whoring for Free' in his notebook, and forgave his boss's cover-up for changing the subject: "Okay."

"Secondly. Have you ever studied psychology? In the Southern Continent?" Edmund turned a page of the resume in front of him.

"That's right, I'm pretty good at judging people's psychology." Yagel replied without changing his expression.

Once the spiritual vision is turned on, the observation of emotions is at your fingertips, so why is it not considered as having studied it?

"Very good, oh, very good." The middle-aged lawyer began to fall into strange thoughts again, "I believe you will definitely play your role, that's right."

Yager's hands trembled subconsciously, feeling a chill.

malicious?

He raised his head and glanced at the old lawyer in front of him who was starting to wander. The slightly chubby figure of the other party was obviously powerless.

The expression didn't seem to be dissatisfied with him either.

What's wrong with that?A high-ranking person fell into deep thought.

The sandalwood door engraved with classical and simple carvings was knocked suddenly, breaking the awkward silence in the room.

Miss Melinda at the front desk, whose makeup was detailed to the hairline, walked in. Her slender ankles were worried that her slender ankles would be broken in five-centimeter high heels.

"Mr. Winchester, Viscount Clint is here."

Viscount Clint's five words immediately brought back Edmund, who was addicted to his own world.

He hurriedly smoothed his suit jacket, straightened his glasses, turned around and lowered his voice to Yagel and said, "This is my big client, you have to be careful with your words and deeds, just record the conversation by the side."

Then he turned and walked towards the door: "Please come in, please come in!"

Melinda pushed the door completely open, leaving behind the young nobleman who came in, turned around and smiled.

The smile is just right, not obsequious but also very friendly, obviously trained on purpose.

The Minsk office is proficient in attracting customers. In addition to the gorgeous decoration, the front desk must of course also attract attention.

Melinda is not only outstanding in appearance, but also has excellent academic qualifications. Although she often uses her appearance to attract customers, she never gets too close to any nobleman and maintains a sense of mystery that is close at hand. She is one of the faces of the firm.

It is rumored that her salary is no less than that of any barrister in the firm.

Today, however, her smile seems to be thrown to those who don't appreciate it.

After Viscount Clint nodded to her casually, he went straight to Lawyer Edmund, not even paying much attention to Melinda, who was usually so flattering to him.

The front desk lady's smile didn't decrease but increased, she exchanged a glance with Edmund, then turned around and closed the door.

The client ignored her, indicating that she would pay more than the consulting fee.

Edmund hid the joy of the upcoming harvest in his heart, and kindly welcomed the nobleman to sit on the sofa opposite the desk.

Yagel handed over a cup of tea in due course.

From his distance, Viscount Clint was a slightly unkempt young man, about 27 or [-] years old, with messy hair and thick black under his eyes, obviously in trouble.

"Do you have any needs this time?" Edmund crossed his hands and put them on his knees.

"It's like this," Clint leaned forward urgently, "In April this year, my friend Lenzer Galby took charge of the company's overseas trade for me. I received news of his return a week ago."

"He brought many unique plants from the southern continent, and a sample of one of them could perfect our company's latest paper-making technology, bringing the cost down to less than a penny."

"A penny?" Edmund raised his voice in surprise, and his confident sitting posture was completely disrupted. "My God, this is incredible news. I mean, did you give birth successfully?"

After the current paper has been improved by Emperor Roselle, it has been removed from the shelves exclusive to nobles, but it is still not cheap.

Yager silently calculated in his notebook.

Ten sheets of the roughest paper cost twopence, and with Clint's success he was able to cut that cost in half.

Simply relying on price cuts, Clint can monopolize Backlund, and even the entire Ruen paper company.

He looked up at the nobleman's dark circles.

But mass production probably didn't work out, or Clint would be ecstatic by now.

Having said that, it's just the Viscount. Is it really possible for him to succeed?

"No." Sure enough, Clint replied dejectedly, "I didn't get those plants."

"Lenzer put them in a separate warehouse with the key and only he knew where the plants were."

"However, on the day we made an appointment to meet, he didn't come."

"I see, so you want us to help you sue Mr. Lenzer Galby, don't you?" The excitement in Edmund's heart showed that he was more eager than before.

"I am confident that I will win this case for you. Mr. Lunzer has almost no chance of winning."

"No, it's not," Clint interrupted Edmund with short breaths, "I'm not going to send Lenzer to prison."

Yager could tell that his anxiety had reached a critical point without turning on his vision.

Clint took out a box wrapped in a silk scarf from his briefcase and said, "Actually, he is here. Or"

The viscount opened the box tremblingly.

"Here comes a part of him."

In the center of the purple velvet cushion lay a pale, bloody finger.

(End of this chapter)