New York, at a high-end cocktail party, handsome men and beautiful women shuttle back and forth, looking for their targets.
Brown was holding a wine glass and chatting with someone else.
"I heard you found your ancestors' treasure this time?" The other person raised his wine glass to congratulate him, "It looks like your crisis has been resolved."
"Not really," Brown shook his head slightly, "For others I can say that, but for you, I'll tell the truth. Although the treasure has indeed been found, it's not all of it, and my goal hasn't been achieved yet."
"That's still better than me," The other person was a middle-aged man with gray hair, a hawkish nose, around fifty years old, slightly thin, and taller than Brown. Even when talking to his old friend Brown, there was no smile on his face.
Several people wanted to come over and chat with them but were scared away by the serious expression.
