In the depths of a countryside villa, within a hidden room connected to an escape passage, a covert transaction was unfolding.
The former wizard, now a Netherland Heretic Inquisitor, Joey Lawson, sat opposite a silver-haired old butler, separated by a low table. A concealed observation window made of a mirror and one-way glass offering a view of the courtyard provided the room with some illumination. The room wasn't particularly dim, but the atmosphere was somewhat oppressive, although it had not yet reached the point of an outright confrontation.
Unnoticed by the two sitting at the low table, a witch with an inconspicuous presence leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, listening intently to their conversation.
"...I'm afraid I can't accept your asking price," Joey Lawson said impassively, knocking on the table with his knuckles. "If the customer can't afford it, the deal won't go through. Do you really know how to do business?"
