[The Ram Chronicle] (Volume 4) (11) Author: gesid368570

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

Author: gesid368570
Words: 12020

yzwnxhpb.png.

Click to see larger image

[The Ramon Chronicle] (Volume 4, Chapter 11) Total Chapter 59

(Neil, October 7, 1900, 4:00 AM, Inner City, Robles's Mansion)

Sleeping peacefully under the light cloud silk quilt is a kind of enjoyment where the whole body is completely unburdened, and the whole quilt is floating in mid-air
; lying on the highly breathable spring mattress, every inch of the back of the body feels as if it is being
supported by the slender hands of a young girl, gentle and reassuring; in the soft goose feather pillow, every carefully selected
feather is wrapped around the head, and the fragrance of sleep is emanating from the pillow, allowing the pillow's owner to gradually fall
into an incomparably peaceful and serene dream. Even his dreams were like strolling through a vast, ethereal garden, where
flowers bloomed everywhere, their whispers filled the air, and their fragrance filled the air; sitting down was a peaceful paradise. But now,
these fine bedding pieces could no longer help their owner find rest.

Robles muttered, turning over in bed again.

His heart pounded, and he realized he hadn't slept all night.

After settling Karak—who readily ordered the servants around, requiring no
effort from Robles—Robles tried to clear his head, but his headache persisted, and the thought of the fire
made him incredibly weary. Karak also advised him to rest, so Robles naturally didn't even
get out of bed, having a light dinner before collapsing into bed—but he couldn't fall asleep at all.

The illusions of flames and scorching heat tormented him. Whenever he closed his eyes, a vibrant, fiery red glow would appear before him, and an
ethereal, rolling heat wave would assault his body, repeatedly dragging Robles back from his hazy state to the drenched reality of
sweat .

He finally got up, turned on the bedside lamp, and stared blankly into the large, empty bedroom.

The dim light enveloped most of the room, a dark, oppressive atmosphere, making it difficult to even make out
the decorative paintings hanging on the walls.

Suddenly, Robles noticed a sliver of light filtering through the curtains. It was
the lantern carried by the servants patrolling the courtyard.

Robles recoiled in terror, then recoiled again.

He turned his head to the side, trying to avoid looking at the terrifying light. He pulled the blanket over his head,
but the feeling worsened. The flames that had always existed simultaneously in reality and imagination seemed to be drawing ever
closer. Robles couldn't help but peek out, meet the light in his eyes, and then curl up into
a ball .

In his blurred consciousness and senses, whether he saw it or not, the flames seemed to be growing brighter
and stronger, engulfing him. Even covering himself with the blanket was useless; the temperature of the flames kept rising,
and perhaps one day his body would be devoured, and everything he owned would vanish.

No, no, it can't be, it's impossible—after struggling with this thought for nearly half an hour, Robles
finally broke down and cried out.

"Mr. Carrack, what's wrong with Master?"

A large group of night watchmen and awakened servants had gathered around Robles' bedside, all anxiously
watching Robles tear his pillow to shreds. At this moment, a young servant named Charles turned
to Carrack, who was standing beside Robles' bed, for help.

"..." Karak remained silent for a moment.

"Aaaaaaahhhhhh! Get away! All of you, get out! Get out!" Robles roared, waving a tattered pillow at the servants around
him .

Amidst the swirling feathers, the servants found it difficult to approach Robles, unsure whether they should, and could only
retreat.

"Get away from me! Get even further away!" Without the pillow, Robles began tearing at the bedding.

"Hey! Robles." Karak shouted, his figure flashing forward, stepping forward and extending his palm to block
Robles's vision. "Is this better?"

"...Uh, uh, um..." Like a tamed beast, Robles immediately calmed down.

"God of War, you, put out the fires in your hands and get out of here immediately." Karak gasped,
spreading his palm behind him as he gave the order.

Robles did not object, and given the good relationship between Mr. Karak and Robles, everyone
quickly left the room.

"Mr. Carrack?" Charles, the only servant left in the room, asked uneasily.

"It seems to be photophobia."

"What?"

"A side effect of rushing into the fire."

"Photophobia? Afraid of...light? Master—" Charles stared blankly at his master.

"I'm afraid so—damn, this kind of illness is troublesome, not easy to treat." Carrack couldn't help but
swear . He knew that this kind of psychological ailment was extremely difficult to cure.

"What should we do now?" Charles knew very well that at this moment, the only person he could rely on was Lord Carrack.

"Robbs...we'll take him to the basement."

"The wine cellar?"

"No, the cellar."

"A black woman?" Charles's first thought was of Mary's skin color.

"Not her." Carrack smiled bitterly—he also knew that at this moment, the only person he could count on was a
woman who had, to some extent, helped Robles resolve his inner conflict.

After covering Robles' head with several blankets, under the watchful eyes of numerous servants, the two
escorted him to the innermost cell of the underground dungeon, the most spacious and well-equipped one in the entire dungeon
.

A separate ventilation duct, a much brighter space than the other cells, a greater variety and complete set of torture instruments
, unimaginably thick iron chains and lead-filled iron balls, a large, soft bed—this small world was
the cage Robles had custom-made for Helna.

Charles took out a key and opened this "luxury" cell specially made for Helna's imprisonment.

After extinguishing all the nearby fires, the two pulled the blankets off Robles' head.

The moment the blankets were removed, Robles seemed to sense something; he broke free from Karak's support,
stumbled into the dark cell, and lunged at the woman tightly bound to the rack by chains.

"Hmm?" Helna, already awakened by the commotion outside, instinctively tried to shake off the person clinging to her.
A man, and then she noticed a sharp gaze coming from the darkness.

"Don't do anything foolish," Karak whispered a warning.

Herna snorted, calming down, letting Robles, who was lying on her chest, caress and knead her
breasts.

"Is this alright?" Charles asked, slowly backing away, preparing to lock the door again.

"It's the only way." Karak put his ear to the crack in the door. "Don't lock it yet. You watch
them ."

"...I understand, thank you, Mr. Karak. This should work."

"No need to thank me. I'm partly responsible for this."

"You flatter me, sir. I just don't know—"

Suddenly, a male roar came from the cell, followed by a woman's heavy breathing and muffled groans.

"Ha, it works well, doesn't it?" In the darkness, Karak shrugged and walked to the other end of the dungeon.

"Where are you going?" Charles whispered, while secretly peeking through the crack in the door.

"Go prepare some, hmm, the smaller kind that Robles is comfortable using—do you know
which ones he usually likes to use?"

"Yes, I saw them when I was cleaning the room—the kind the master leaves by the pillow."

Since they couldn't start a fire, Karak and Charles groped around in the dark for a while before managing to gather a few
lighter "tools"—a whip much thicker and harder than normal, a thick leather handpiece studded with metal rivets,
a small tray of steel needles, a sex toy covered in tiny iron spikes, and two short, delicate
pliers .

"These should be enough—if he wants to use them."

"Yes, I'll take them in right away—it'll just be tough on the woman inside."

"Hmm, are you pitying that woman? Or do you disapprove of your master's actions?"

A woman's scream came from the cell, and Robles and Charles's conversation paused for a moment.

"—No problem, everything the master did to that woman was perfectly reasonable. I think that woman must have made some kind of deal with the master
anyway ."

"...You're right." Karak couldn't help but secretly admire Charles's perspective, which was quite close to
the standard of a businessman.

"That's right, I think the master 'likes' her and won't really ruin her." Charles
nodded said "seriously," "But hard work is hard work—in our eyes, this should be considered overtime."

"...Hahahaha." Karak was stunned for a moment, then tried his best to suppress his
laughter, "You're really something, Charles, you're so funny."

Afterwards, Charles personally delivered the items into the cell, while Karak leaned against the outer wall alone ,
lost in thought.

Actually, Karak wasn't confused; he was just waiting.

The only thing he didn't understand was how long he would have to wait, and why he was waiting.

But at this moment, he could only wait; he had no other choice.

In the distance, Charles vaguely beckoned to him, and Karak looked up.

"Shall I take you upstairs first, Mr. Karak?" Charles asked.

Hearing Helna's screams coming from the cell—Robbers had already begun to enjoy the tools and
Helna 's body—Karak turned to Charles, squinting as he watched closely for a moment.

"Okay, I'm a little sleepy." Heading back the way he came, this time, he walked ahead without looking back.

(Neil, October 7, 1900, 7:00 AM, Inner City, Crown Hotel)

"Don't come any closer!"

"Back off! Back off!"

A large number of police officers formed what appeared to be a flimsy human wall, struggling to hold back
the surging crowd several times their size.

Organizing the crowd and barely maintaining order were two policemen, one fat and one thin. The morning chill couldn't
stop the sweat pouring from their foreheads as the overwhelming crowd blocked the hotel's front and back entrances
.

Initially, around 5 or 6 a.m., the greeters at the hotel's main entrance were wondering—when had the Crown Hotel,
standing at the pinnacle of Ram's catering and service industry, ever welcomed such a large group of guests?

Their suspicions were correct; these people hadn't come for lodging.

These seemingly friendly individuals, their faces beaming with anticipation and joy, often tinged with a hint of fervor
, carried various pens, paper, and canvases—some even carrying two
large, boxy machines of unknown purpose—and anxiously waited outside the hotel, seemingly anticipating
something.

Faced with this unusual and perplexing scene, even the usually methodical hotel staff
were momentarily at a loss—until people began tentatively peeking into the hotel, and some even tried
to burst in when the staff weren't looking, at which point the staff realized the seriousness of the situation.

Moreover, their numbers were steadily increasing.

As staff of a top-tier hotel in Lamu, they weren't entirely helpless against thugs or drunkards
; the young and strong men had their methods for dealing with uninvited guests—but these people were not to be trifled with,
extremely , extremely difficult to deal with.

This is a group of ruthless individuals who prey on
others the wealthy and powerful who act too ostentatiously.

Reporters—the most troublesome type of guest.

Unable to contact their superior, Robles, the hotel's major shareholder, the staff made the wisest
decision—to call the police.

Thus, this scene unfolded.

Reports of forced prostitution, illegal transactions in certain rooms, or even
murders in the hotel—the experienced staff are seasoned veterans, having weathered many storms; even police
intervention has its own methods. But when facing reporters, even the boldest and most cunning staff
must be on high alert, greeting them with smiles.

Mayor Elson of Ramon, in the early stages of the city's reconstruction, strongly supported the newspaper and media industries to
boost the morale of citizens, promote unity, and facilitate the city's rebuilding. The indirect result is that these
lawless and ungrateful individuals often
act arrogantly towards those in power (sometimes even the mayor himself).

However, the mayor is usually quite lenient with these people, frequently encouraging and praising them; in addition...
Mr. Robles had repeatedly warned them not to offend the reporters, prioritizing peace and quiet above all else. This had led the staff
to treat the reporters like hedgehogs—the kind that would prick them even if they weren't touched.

And now, these hedgehogs were densely packed together in front of their own doorstep—a truly terrifying
sight.

"Let me in!" a burly reporter, confronting the police, loudly proclaimed
the demands of most of his colleagues.

"For equality and freedom!" a younger reporter shouted, pen and paper raised, reciting
slogans often heard during the early days of Ram's reconstruction.

"Officer! Do you know what's happening inside?! Not just us, you are the ones who should be
rushing in—" a few of the more "clever" reporters were subtly persuading the police to open a path.

"Back off! All of you, back off!" the police shouted, their voices loud but gradually losing their conviction.

The astute reporters immediately sensed the police's limits and began a series of organized,
probing —any slip-up would inevitably lead to a breakout.

Frustrated by "procedural justice" and public relations issues, Mr. Barnes, the young police captain of the Ram City Police Department, was trapped in the hotel lobby,
gritting his teeth and at his wits' end.

Such a large-scale clash between police and reporters was unprecedented in recent years—who knew
what would be in tonight's papers?

No, no, this wasn't the time to worry about that.

"Are you really sure Ms. Margarita wasn't taken into the suite? Or does it look like
she was ?"

Once again, Barnes futilely inquired of the hotel's night-duty receptionist.

"Absolutely certain, Mr. Barnes." The hotel manager, nearing forty and in his late thirties, firmly
rejected Barnes's offer, recognizing and thwarting his attempt to obtain
a statement sufficient to support his decision to lead a raid on the upper floors of the hotel.

These policemen, too, would take advantage of the slightest slip of the tongue—the hotel manager thought
smugly .

In fact, he wasn't lying. Judging from Ms. Margarita's check-in last night, there was
absolutely no possibility she had been abducted—well, if you had to say, she seemed to be abducting a
much younger boy.

But who could say for sure about matters of the heart? Romantic affairs, lovelorn lovers, these
mundane matters , especially those within his jurisdiction, should be sidelined by reporters and police—
the hotel manager, upholding the principle of "customer first" and possessing "extensive experience," firmly believed this.

Meanwhile, on the fourth floor of the hotel, in a suite.

"What's this? Breakfast? Breakfast is so lavish!"

"Of course! According to my research, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, especially for those who
are still growing—"

"No, something's not right, this is too lavish?" Faced with a table full of delicacies, Simon kept swallowing.

"Actually, I specifically asked the hotel for this... I want Simon to be healthy...
" Margarita, who had been earnestly advocating the importance of breakfast, finally relented.

"Oh, well, thank you." Simon didn't think it was a mistake.

"Yes, yes!" Margarita's smile was as bright as the fresh bouquets the hotel staff prepared for the guests every morning
.

"But we definitely can't finish it." Simon was quite averse to wasting food.

"How about we pack it up and take it with us..."

"Did you pay?"

"Yes."

"Then take it with you—there's enough food here for ten children in the slums for a day."

"Oh... I thought you'd be happier..." Margarita's mood immediately dropped again.

"No, no, I, I'm super happy! I can eat such delicious
food , I love you so much, Marty." Sensing Margarita's feelings, Simon began his usual, less-than-stellar, attempt at
remedial measures.

"Really! That's great! I love you too!" Hearing Simon's stiff and blatant praise, Margarita's
mood instantly brightened like a child's.

"Uh, how about another kiss?" Simon couldn't help but feel a little relieved. After all,
he rarely had the experience of successfully "managing" a woman like this, as he was prone to saying the wrong thing again and again after angering her. "By the way, it seems quite noisy
outside— "

Before Simon could finish speaking, Margarita's lips pounced on his.

As if savoring the finest wine, Margarita nestled against Simon, offering her overflowing
affection to the man (the boy) she had fallen for at first sight through her lips and tongue.

Simon accepted it all with a smile. He held the beauty's waist with one hand and lifted her face
with the other, responding passionately to the unromantic Margarita, enjoying her service while using his skillful tongue to entice her.

"Mmm—" Margarita's breath was exhausted, and she was in a state of panic when she suddenly felt a warm breath
enter her lungs.

"Mmm—" Simon further invaded, taking control of her, along with her breath.

The long, lingering kiss seemed endless, and their hands and feet became restless. Margarita clung tightly to Simon's
waist and hips, while Simon moved his hands to softer, more elastic areas.

Like the rising sun in the distance, sparks of passion ignited in their entanglement, leaping out from the darkness.
The lovers, filled with joy, threw themselves into it, adding fuel to the fire without hesitation. The flames flickered and grew stronger. In this small room
, sunlight seemed insignificant; the glow ignited by their love was enough to replace it, so intense it was like—knock knock knock.

"I'm so sorry, sir, is now a convenient time?"

An untimely voice and knocking came from the doorway, instantly
cooling .

"Ah, convenient, convenient! Please come in."

Margarita and Simon quickly straightened their clothes, regaining their composure.

"Hello, distinguished guests." Standing outside the door was the hotel's duty manager.

"What is it?" Margarita demanded sharply, her anger barely contained.

"No, nothing—no, something is wrong." For a moment, captivated by Dr. Margarita's resentful gaze
, the manager, who considered himself a seasoned judge of character, hesitated, but he immediately realized that the current situation
didn't allow him to play it safe.

"We're listening." Margarita's tone grew increasingly somber. She hid behind the half-open door,
only her eyes peeking out as she stared intently at the man who had ruined her plans.

"Uh, yes, yes, there are some, no, a lot, a huge number of reporters gathered downstairs—and
a lot of police too, a huge number."

"A lot of reporters, or a lot of police!?"

"A lot of both!"

"What are the numbers? Be precise!"

"I haven't, I haven't counted—about thirty reporters, and about—"

"Go count them! Then come back and report!"

"Yes, yes, yes, yes—" The manager scurried away, clutching his head in a panic.

After dealing with the manager, Margarita slammed the door shut, panting, and stomped her foot angrily.

She seemed a little thirsty from all the shouting and coughing.

"Pfft." Sitting on the sofa, having quietly watched the
entire "intense exchange" between Margarita and the hotel manager, Simon finally couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Margarita, you, you're so amazing—hahahahaha."

"That, that's—out of control! Yes, that's called emotional out of control, hahaha, hahaha."
Margarita 's smile was quite stiff.

"It's nothing, it's quite cute." Simon comforted her, both amused and exasperated.

"Sigh, he just mentioned reporters and police?"

"Is it troublesome?" Simon got up and began selecting his favorite dishes at the table.

"Are they here to cause you trouble?"

"Hmm—probably not, I haven't offended any reporters—Lin Hua mentioned before that these people
can be very troublesome if you mess with them, I have to be careful."

"Really—I think they're quite nice."

Public opinion in Ram City regarding Margarita's situation was completely opposite to her situation in academia
, with the winds almost unanimously blowing in Margarita's favor. Therefore, she naturally felt that reporters
were a rather "lovable" group of people—much more approachable than her colleagues.

"I have a bad feeling, let's eat first, my stomach is growling."

"Okay, then eat more of that, and that—" Margarita immediately helped Simon sit down, and respectfully
handed him a napkin, tying it around his neck.

"Thank you." Simon smiled, unable to repay her kindness.

In the room, the two fed each other, flirted, and spent nearly an hour of blissful time together—then
things suddenly took a turn.

"Knock, bang bang bang, knock knock, knock, knock knock knock…"

Upon hearing this peculiar knocking sound, Simon immediately stood up, gesturing for Margarita to sit down. He strode
to the door, quickly opened it, pulled the woman outside in, and then immediately closed the door—
the series of movements was incredibly smooth and silent.

"How did you find me?" Simon asked.

“My lord, do you know how much commotion you’ve caused since yesterday? Forget finding me here, even
just walking down the street and following the procession of carriages would likely lead you to this place!”

“Uh, so—exaggerated?”

“Exaggerated? Not at all! How could you be so—this one, could it be…?” Sensing a
distinct hostility beside her, Justine stopped abruptly.

“Ah, let me introduce you. This is—”

“Madam Margarita, greetings.” Without Simon’s introduction, Justine lifted the hem of her long dress, curtsied
slightly , and performed a Charon curtsy.

“Uh, you know her? Maddie, this is—”

“Jo—no, if it’s a woman, it should be Just, Just—Justine, your name is Justine?”
Margarita seemed displeased and glanced furtively at Simon.

“How did you know?” Simon was quite surprised.

“Madam Margarita read the coded message, although it was written in plain language, but—truly worthy of
the Doctor.” Justine greeted him again.

"..." Simon, completely oblivious, wisely stopped pressing the matter.

"And who are you to Simon?" Margarita's attitude was blunt and sharp. "How dare you—"

"I am Simon's property—Mistress."

"Hmm—wait? Mistress, mistress?"

"Isn't that so?" Justine tilted her head slightly, bowing again to Margarita in a servant-master's salute. "
Then , I am also your property."

"Mistress..." Margarita was captivated by this title that she found so alluring. "...Could you say it again
?"

"I am also your—"

"The one before."

"Isn't that so—"

"Going further back."

"Mistress, good morning."

"Wow—did you hear that, Simon!"

"Hmm." Simon smiled, shook his head, and gave Justine a meaningful look.

—You're really something!

Over the next few minutes, Justine politely declined Simon's invitation to breakfast,
then
explained their predicament to Simon and Dr. Margarita (Margarita wanted to avoid the topic, but Simon gestured that she didn't need to) in extremely concise terms.

Bad news followed one after another. While Justine anxiously and objectively explained her situation, Simon
found it difficult to sit still. Before Justine had even finished half of her sentence, he became restless, pacing back and forth.

Last night, Little Ke raised the banner of rebellion, announcing her departure from the slum gang. About
two-fifths of the women in Simon's gang also left. Of the remaining three-fifths, most were former members of Lin Hua, with a small number still
wavering.

"Xiao Ke's strength is not to be underestimated. She currently controls several prime, thriving
brothels in the city, as well as a few less-than-reputable underground entertainment venues, though they have a 'good reputation' among the powerful. Her
contributions over the past six months have accounted for two-fifths of the entire guild's income—of course, Xiao Ke doesn't hand over all of it;
we're certain she's embezzled several times that amount."

"Hmm—" Simon was momentarily silent. Xiao Ke's departure was expected, but actively raising the banner of rebellion was
another matter entirely. This meant Xiao Ke had directly abandoned all other options besides direct confrontation.

"Seems troublesome. Is it alright, Simon? If it's about money—"

"Thank you, Maddie. But I can't rely on you for this."

Simon noticed the approving look in Justine's eyes.

Then came the scandal that was sweeping the city.

This morning, almost every newspaper in Ram City carried
the breaking news that Dr. Margarita had spent the night at the Crown Hotel with a mysterious young man.

"We had informants in some newspapers in advance, but it was too late. The information
spread so fast that it was impossible to stop it."

"Ahem, what did the newspapers say?"

"We did everything we could, spreading some false information and bribing some people. This time it was different
from before ; instead of all the media praising the doctor while simultaneously vilifying the man."

"Ha, they always did that?" Simon sneered, turning to Margarita.

"Yes, they weren't wrong before. The men I dated were either after my money or had
ulterior motives—but, but you're different, Simon! I used to see it clearly, but I always lied to myself—
"

"Don't say anymore, don't talk about those sad things... You've had a hard time." Simon walked
behind and patted her head.

"Master, the newspapers are still arguing back and forth. Some say Dr. Margarita has lost her mind,
while others say you're a fraud, or that you've kidnapped Dr. Margarita. There's even a claim that you're actually
Dr. Margarita's brother, who just escaped from Charon—this news wasn't
leaked by us; these reporters are really good at making things up."

"Uh, brother—"

"I advise you not to try and use that excuse to get away with it."

"I know." With the police downstairs—and presumably Officer Barnes there too—that excuse was
obviously useless.

The trouble wasn't over yet; next up was a bizarre murder case that occurred yesterday in the outer city.

A chamber of commerce's headquarters was attacked, dozens dead, and the attackers set it on fire before leaving.

"What does this have to do with us?" Simon asked, puzzled.

“Most of the valuables were gone from the fire, and the way the body was disposed of looks like something the
mob used a long time ago—the police are currently inclined to believe it was the work of a slum gang.”

“Is he trying to settle a personal score?”

“Are you talking about Xiao Ke’s fiancé, Captain Barnes? Probably not.”

“Why not? He saw Xiao Ke and me—” Realizing Margaret was nearby, Simon wisely
stopped himself.

“Because he’s not that kind of person. Mr. Barnes is honest, upright, and never accepts
bribes or engages in any fraudulent activities—he’s the only officer we don’t have any dirt on.”

“…You seem to admire him?” Simon glanced sideways at Justine.

“Of course, Xiao Ke isn’t blind; she has good judgment.” Justine directly retorted to Simon.

"Then, it couldn't really be us, could it?"

"No, at least not by anyone from your organization, Master."

"Haya?"

"Doesn't seem like it either."

"I hear it like these people are deliberately framing us?" "

Perhaps. I must thoroughly investigate this matter. We can't evade it.
Judging from the information from our informant at the police station, if we can't find the real culprit, we'll be taking the blame."

"Hmph, don't let me catch you—"

"Master! There's one more thing. Please remain calm after hearing this." Justine's face suddenly darkened, and
she said with unusual seriousness.

"There's more?" Simon was already feeling a bit overwhelmed.

The last thing was about the commotion in the slums last night—before Justine could finish speaking, Simon
panicked.

Last night, Hannah used Linhua as bait, cooperating with Luke, to lure out Mia and her two henchmen. But afterwards,
Mia and her two henchmen all fell into a coma and were once in critical condition. Despite the emergency treatment, she remained in a semi-
conscious state, in great pain, her whole body convulsing and spasming violently, delirious, and running a high fever,
showing no signs of improvement.

"—The doctors in the slums are at a loss. They say they might not make it through the day, and rather than
watch them suffer like this, it's better to—"

"No! Find a better doctor in the city, there must be a way!" Simon grabbed Justine
's shoulders.

"Yes, Hannah sent people to search overnight. We don't know how they are now—Master, it hurts!"
Justine tried to push Simon away, but couldn't budge him.

"Simon, calm down! I'm going!" Margarita steadied Simon, pulling him away from Justine
. "And I have to go—Miss Justine! If it's really as you say, this disease is terrible,
is it contagious?"

"I didn't have time to think about that at the time—no one else has been infected yet." "

What measures are being taken? "

"Just physiological cooling. "

"Are there any medicines stored in the slums?"

"The master has them, a full range of kinds." "

What about the raw materials for the medicines?"

"That's uncertain." "

I need to go back to the academy, take the tools and enough manpower—if there's a possibility of a severe epidemic,
the academy will not stand idly by."

Simon couldn't get a word in edgewise, just watching Justine and Margarita talk nervously.

"Master, the front and back doors of the hotel are blocked right now, and reporters are rushing in. The police probably
won't be able to hold them off for long—once they're caught, it'll be hard to escape."

"Are these policemen just sitting around doing nothing?"

It's probably unprecedented for a criminal to complain about the police's incompetence.

"They just don't want to get involved—Master, I've prepared enough men to escort the Doctor away. But
this will inevitably expose many people to public scrutiny. Please decide, Master."

"We can't worry about that now. Prepare the carriages; we're going to break through by force."

"Wait a moment." Margarita interrupted Simon's arrangements sharply. "Don't act rashly! Let me think."

Looking at Margarita's furrowed brow, Simon suddenly realized that, aside from her naive and innocent image,
her aura could also be as heavy, solemn, and oppressive as it was now. At this moment, she was no longer the woman
beside him , but an almost irresistible and undeniable presence.

"Call the hotel manager," Margarita ordered Justine.

"Yes, Mistress." Justine responded, turning away without hesitation as if faithfully carrying out her mistress's orders .

"Margarita." Simon abandoned the title "Marty."

"Don't worry, Simon, I have a way—I'll definitely think of a way." Margarita,
unusually , didn't even turn her head towards Simon, but instead rested her chin on her hand, deep in thought.

"..." Simon thought for a moment; at this moment,
he really had no better choice than to completely entrust command to this exceptionally intelligent woman.

Before Justine returned, Margarita opened the wardrobe and changed back into her dirty
white lab coat from yesterday.

Taking out a pipe from the lab coat pocket, Margarita put the mouthpiece in her mouth and took a few deep puffs.

The pipe had long since gone out and cooled, but Margarita seemed oblivious, continuing to puff on
the cigarette butt, which emitted not a wisp of smoke. Simon, seeing this, went back to the bedroom to fetch a match and lit the
tobacco in the pipe.

"Whoosh—" A wisp of smoke rose, and Margarita exhaled a puff of bluish smoke. As if finding fragments deep within
her soul , Margarita pieced together another image of herself—the
one known to the world.

"What?" The hotel manager blinked, trying to gloss over the situation, but found his thoughts
completely exposed to the woman's gaze. "How did you know about this underground
passage—"

"Take us out through the secret passage—the underground passage, the back door, call it whatever you want, take us out from there."
Margarita's words were resolute, leaving no room for negotiation.

“But this passage is only for Mr. Robles—”

“Robbles is a friend of Mayor Elson.”

“Hmm, that’s right?”

“And I am the person in charge of ‘Prevention and Control of Malignant Infectious Diseases’ personally appointed by the mayor, and
I am also a friend of the mayor.”

“What did you say? Malignant what? I’m sorry, person in charge and all that—I didn’t understand.” The hotel
manager looked troubled, but it seemed he wasn’t deliberately making things difficult.

Then, Margarita took a deep breath.

"What I mean is, if Mr. Robles asks you, you simple-minded idiot, about this, you'll tell him
I had to requisition this underground passage to control the epidemic!"

"What—"

"I've already given you an excuse, what more do you want?"

"I didn't—"

"Shut up! Listen to me! If you don't get me and this gentleman to the underground passage within three minutes, you
're in trouble! You'll be fired! Lose your job! Be unemployed! Then heartbroken—divorced! Understand?"

"How can that be—"

"Delaying epidemic control! Can you take responsibility for that? Can Mr. Robles take responsibility?"

"What? The epidemic?"

"That's right! You idiot with a head full of saline solution! Look up at me!"

"Yes, yes."

"Who—am I?"

"You, of course, are—Dr. Margarita."

"Say it again!"

"Dr. Margarita!"

"Louder!"

"It's Dr. Margarita!"

"So—I've already given you a huge favor by arguing with you for so long! Then why aren't you
taking us away yet!?" Margarita's imposing manner

was aggressive. "I—" The manager retreated hastily.

"Then what are you waiting for? Move your feet! Move your slow-moving butt! Now! Right now!
Otherwise, someone will die!"

"Yes, yes, yes—yes!"

The sweating manager turned around in a panic—then his forehead slammed solidly against the door frame.
He didn't even have time to savor the pain before retreating to the corridor as fast as he could, gesturing for Dr. Margarita to follow.

Simon and Justine exchanged a glance, still reeling from this rare spectacle,
speechless and unsure of what to say, they could only follow Margarita's lead quickly.

Hmm... hmm...

hmm... Simon's luck is about to run out.

Hello everyone, the next chapter will be a full 60 chapters. After that, I will keep my promise and pause the serialization of Ramuji
to launch a novella.

The novella will feature four female protagonists, two main male characters, a major villain, and a
jerk…maybe.

These four female protagonists, from all over the world, come
together enduring pain—and punishment.

Moreover, not all of them will have a good ending.

In short, this is a story about how to be a good person when driven by various desires…maybe?

Main characters:

Basari—Thai, a female boxer in an underground boxing ring, with considerable skill. She wavers
between her secret crush on her "boss" and the dignity of a boxer.

Saki—Japanese, a female assassin born into a family that inherits ninjutsu. Her skills as an assassin
are extraordinary, but she is betrayed by her master during her last assassination mission.

Hayley—American, a housewife, a former special forces officer, who has a feud with a major drug lord. Mo Xinqi – A Hong Kong marine police officer who, following in the footsteps of her mother (who died in the line of duty), dedicates herself to anti-drug work as a woman and has solved numerous major cases. She was unfortunately
captured five years ago but escaped alone. She travels to Thailand to seek revenge and to help her friend Hailey. "The Boss" – A Thai real estate and entertainment tycoon, secretly a giant in the gambling, sex, and drug industries. Tanaka Kenzo – The head of the "Osaka Union," a Kansai yakuza organization, who later absorbed the Kansai yakuza, becoming the general representative of the entire Japanese yakuza. He is shrewd and upright, but not bound by the so-called "righteous path." Kondo Kazuo – The former head of the "Shinto City," a Kanto yakuza association, who became Tanaka's subordinate . Sayoko – Tanaka's wife, the eldest daughter of a powerful Kanto yakuza family. These are the main characters; the rest are various villains responsible for "opposing" the four female leads— you know what I mean. Stay tuned.

URL 1:https://www.sex3p.com/htmlBlog/177206.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=177206&aspx=1

Last access time:

Previous Page : 【My True Office Romance】(01-04) Author: jenderlee

Next Page : [Men's Biographies] (04-06) Author: whitesheep12

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

[The Ram Chronicle] (Volume 4) (11) Author: gesid368570

comment Open a new window to view comments