A Fateful Antidote

Lorry knew the man who came in. Carl Williams, who she had dealt with a few days ago at the VIX Club.

The world was so small. Who would have thought that they would meet again so soon.

Actually, Carl was only a distant brother to Barack. He had been working with his family on the infrastructure project for the past few years, but had been hindered by the Taike Group due to various excuses. Relying on his many relatives, Carl contacted Barack，who asked Carl to find a way to solve the problem.

He asked Carl to find a way to solve the problem.

There happened to be a meeting tonight. Barack wanted Carl to come and make contact with Wilfred. Then he maneuvered from the middle. If Wilfred, the crown prince of the Spencer family, offered to help them, the Taike Group would definitely have to do him a favor for such a trivial matter.

Carl was excited when he heard that he had the chance to meet Wilfred. Although he had met Patric, who was also a son of the Spencer family, a few times, everyone knew that Wilfred was the man with the power.

So as soon as Carl walked in, Barack stood up and introduced him, “This is my brother Carl. Let him take my place to play.”

Unlike the day before at VIX, Carl was no longer unruly. He bowed to Martin and sat down across from Lorry. Since Lorry’s cap was low, he didn’t recognize her for a moment. Then he saw Wilfred sitting behind Lorry.

He was half sunk into the dark sofa, his thin lips slightly pursed. There was a certain cynical elegance to his unbuttoned coil buckle. But the indifference and alienation in his eyes revealed the depth of his sophistication. Although he sat in the most inconspicuous place, he was the least likely to be ignored.

When Carl saw the Aquilaria Crassna beads on Wilfred’s wrist, his face turned pale with horror. He immediately remembered Simon’s words that day. The person who could make Simon stand up for himself should be privileged.

“Carl, this is the crown prince of the Spencer family, Wilfred. “Barack spoke to Carl.

From the moment he sat down and saw this man, Carl knew that he must be of extraordinary identity. But he did not expect the man to be so eminent and inaccessible. What he did that night was like throwing an egg at a rock.

Carl had to greet him awkwardly, “Nice to meet you… Mr. Spencer.”

Hearing his words, Lorry, who had been looking down at the tilts, instantly turned back. Her eyes were filled with shock. Wilfred felt her gaze and slowly put down the ancient books in his hand, then looked up nonchalantly.

When their eyes made contact, Lorry immediately looked away. Her thoughts were in turmoil at the moment. Comparing this man to his teenage period, he was completely different from the one Lorry remembered. How could a person’s temperament change so much? Lorry did not recognize him even after meeting him three times.

Then she felt a shadow come over her and said in a low voice, “Concentrate yourself.”

His warm breath swept over her left arm with a faint scent of red wine. It was intoxicating, tickling her skin.

Carl hadn’t noticed the girl across from him until then. Although the brim of her cap was low and only the lower part of her face was visible, her cold aura reminded Carl that she was the girl who would ruin his face that day. He suddenly felt that playing mahjong here wasn’t interesting.

Wilfred whispered to Lorry, “A lamb is in a tiger’s den. It’s time for you to make money.”

Then he sank back into the sofa and stopped paying attention to the game. Lorry suddenly looked up and across the table. Carl had no idea, let alone that he had asked Wilfred to help him with his project. If he could go home without losing too much money, he would be happy.

Carl did not dare to win Lorry. On the contrary, he helped Lorry to test the situation several times. So Lorry was very fluent in the game.

She won Carl and Martin once each, then got a  self-drawn. The chips piled up in front of her.

Martin discarded a tile that just happened to make Lorry win. He couldn’t help but ask, “Little girl, why didn’t you claim the Two Dots that Terry discarded just now?”

Lorry nonchalantly replied, “I just won with Two Bamboos, not Two Dots. I changed my mind when I saw the Two Dots coming out. It was the last Two Dots, whoever draws it will throw it away.

In mahjong, the discarding of tiles depended on the sequence at hand and the judgment of the game, which was somewhat subjective in nature. Lorry’s certainty piqued Martin’s interest, “How can you be sure?”