The room was very bright, a little unusually bright.

Candlesticks, candlesticks, branch-shaped chandeliers... Hundreds of candles swaying light under the faint night wind, stacking layer by layer, leaving nothing in the house hiding.

Emmons knew that this was definitely not the norm in Lorraine's study.

Although Drake's house is indeed luxurious, the luxury organized by Carmen is always simple and restrained, with a little ignorant of the materials and craftsmanship, and guests cannot detect the existence of luxury.

Light up hundreds of candles for lighting? Or meet a guest who cannot be called a guest in a private study?

Such low-level show-offs of wealth are not even the stupidest nouveau riche, let alone the top chaebols like Lorraine who receives the most orthodox aristocratic education and is rich in wealth.

If something goes wrong, it will be a monster.

Emmons suddenly realized something, and immediately sat down opposite Lorraine with a solemn face and full of concentration.

"Tea? Or coffee?"

The exact same question, Lorraine sat opposite Emmons with her legs crossed her head, even her tone was exactly the same as the opening of the daytime game.

"I saw a few bottles of 53-year-old white rum in your cellar, if you can..."

"Tea? Or coffee?"

"Tea……"

Lorraine snapped her fingers, and Monica, wearing a lady's swallowtail, came in from outside the door, took only one step, and guarded the door.

"Master, please give me instructions."

"Come on a cup of tea for Colonel Emmons." Lorraine stopped halfway, "By the way, does the Colonel have any requirements for taste?"

"I prefer Sugar..."

"The Colonel said he doesn't care, Monica, please trouble you."

"Emerging guests is the butler's duty, so you don't have to be polite."

Monica lifted up the hem of the skirt and bowed, took a step back, and the door slowly closed again.

Click.

For the first time, Lorraine raised her eyes and looked at Emmons.

"Col. Chris Emmons, I heard you've caused Shaq a lot of trouble?"

"Yes." Emmons was more honest than when he first entered the house. "I am not good at dealing with my own affairs. I occasionally leave some heads and tails and often be cared for by the general."

"First and last... do you mean being debt-chased or being buried alive?"

"There are all, but only that time was buried alive. In order to collect debts, I had forced abduction and threatened to cut hands and feet. Fortunately, the general was able to arrive in time every time, otherwise I would have been forced to retire long ago."

"It's such a wonderful encounter, and all you are worried about is retirement?" Lorraine asked strangely.

"Isn't retirement a bad thing?" Emmons acted stranger than Lorraine. He was definitely not pretending. "If I cut off the cafeteria and dormitory, I lost food and accommodation, my monthly salary, and I had no source of income. A disabled person had no other means of making a living, and I would die from being forced to complete my own research even if I died."

"Study? The probability of gambling?" Lorraine remembered Emmons' self-debate in New Orleans a few years ago.

"The probability of gambling is calculating. I firmly believe in this and am willing to devote my life to proof of this."

"Admirable great ambition." Lorraine praised mechanically.

The tea comes on, it is a standard English mix, mellow but not irritating, completely different from what Emmons wants.

Lorraine slowly added fresh milk: "Are you nervous?"

Hiss!

This question helped Emmons tear open the sugar bag, and the fine white sugar sprinkled everywhere.

He sighed and packed up the mess in front of him and replied softly: "I'm looking for Asathin and want to know where she is."

"Hena... probably went to see Bell. In theory, Bell might have absconded with guilt."

"perhaps?"

Lorraine stirred the tea liquid and said with a smile: "It should be different from what you think. I seldom instruct Henna. She is free. She decides where she wants to go and what she wants to do. I am only responsible for the consequences."

“So morning?”

"Yes, whether it's shooting a flying knife or holding your neck with it is her own judgment. If she had judged you at that time, I would have thrown your body into your ship and sent it on the road with the 16 sailors, sinking near Bermuda."

The cold sweat immediately crawled over Emmons's back.

He was confident that Lorraine would not kill him because there was a bond between the Drake brothers, and no one would easily cut off this bond.

But Henna Jesla... This woman is full of mystery in the world's intelligence about the Drake Chamber of Commerce, and no one can guess her code of action, which means that no one can guess her spontaneous behavior, including the motive for murder.

Emmons suddenly felt the reality of [will be killed], and the bright study scenery suddenly changed, and murderous intent almost overflowed.

Shocked, terrified, unexpected, confused.

Emmons faced his fear clumsyly, but what he thought was... So am I so afraid of death?

With the threat of debt collection for many years, he always thought he was not afraid of death.

But this time the feeling was completely different. From the moment he said something, his heart never really calmed down.

Why is this happening?

He curiously examined the long day, quickly played back his experience and mood like a revolving lantern, and finally discovered the difference.

The difference is obvious.

Before this, all the murderous intent he faced was clear. Whether the other party really wanted to kill him or threaten him with death, he could know it in advance and know it clearly.

He can't escape if he really wants to kill him, and he doesn't have to escape if he doesn't want to kill him. This is true for war and debt collection. In the face of a known future, he does not need unnecessary fear, or in other words, he can easily convince himself to give up fear.

But this time it's different.

First of all, his itinerary did not contain the threat of death. If everything went well, Lorraine had no reason to fall in love with his life.

This was a pure accident, without any signs beforehand.

What's more, this accident was mixed with uncontrollable variables called Henna Jezra, which made the entire event full of unknowns and inaccuracies.

What he feared was not death at all, but the unknown that he had no way to judge whether he would die, just like a... gambling.

Emmons became excited inappropriately, sweating profusely, and his heartbeats.

"Will... Mr. President, if... I mean, if... if you and Assassin had a different judgment and had already killed me before you made it clear about your feelings, for example, in the morning. What would you do?"

"What will I do..." Lorraine's face showed strange confusion, "Is this a provocation?"

"Not provocation!" Emmons waved his hand in a hurry, "Not provocation, just reference, just reference, just like roulette, odd and even, cards, history will always be announced on the table. This is the reference left by the dealer to the gamblers. Only by providing reference can we have the possibility of calculating the probability..."

Lorraine suddenly realized: "It's gambling..."

"Yes!" Emmons gasped, "You are the dealer today, Assassin is the dealer, I bet with my life, you are obliged to provide me with reference, otherwise, otherwise..."

"Otherwise you can only guess."

"yes!"

Lorraine thought about it, and after a while, she suddenly laughed out loud.

"Although your words are convincing, unfortunately, my reference is of no value to you."

"This is not a fair gambling table, it is fate. Fate never comes fair, and it will only become gambling when the bet is expensive enough."

"Your life doesn't matter. I mean, even if I don't want to kill you, Henna kills you, it's just an insignificant little thing, and it doesn't even have the value to let us discuss it."

Emmons' eyes suddenly turned red: "No, Mr. President, paper cannot cover the fire, even if you hide it well..."

"The premise of this assumption is not to hide it." Lorraine interrupted him, "You die, die in front of Shaq, Henna kills you, I will apologize, and then do whatever you should do, what will not change, nothing will not change, that is your weight."

The black tea was prepared, and the milky fragrance was everywhere, and the tea fragrance was scented. Lorraine took it and took a sip, putting down the cup with satisfaction.

"Okay, it's too late. Please tell me where is Shaq?"
Chapter completed!