Instinctively pulling out the revolver he always carried, Wilson stared intently at the figure hidden beneath the black cloak, while his other hand subtly reached for a red button under the edge of the table.
However, as the visitor lowered his hood, a flood of kinship surged through his soul, instantly soothing his terrified heart, and gradually relaxing Wilson.
"My lord."
Taking a deep breath, Wilson put away his revolver, stood up, and bowed, his eyes devoutly fixed on the smiling boy not far away.
"You did well last time."
Hearing the boy's praise, Wilson's heart surged with endless ecstasy and gratitude, half-kneeling on the ground, overwhelmed by favor.
"Glory be to my lord."
With a faint, knowing smile, Zhu Haomiao casually flicked his fingers, and with a light metallic hum, two shining gold coins spun rapidly, drawing a parabola in mid-air, landing precisely in Wilson's palm.
