Arkham buttoned up his dress shirt as if his life depends on it. Well, it kinda is. Once he finished with his shirt, and put on his black tuxedo jacket. One thing that he likes about his uniform is that it's tailored to be used in the summer. The fabrics aren't thick, but they're not thin enough to look cheap either. Even though he's literally in formal wear, his tuxedo and trousers didn't restrict his movements, which allowed him to easily jump and catch whatever wine glass the first Aster child decided to throw last night.
"Dude..." Armani's voice made the new butler turn to look at his roommate, whose golden blonde hair was still a mess and his fingers were buttoning up his dress shirt one by one.
Meanwhile, the spy was in the process of putting on his black leather loafers. "If you keep staring, you won't get anything done."
"You're so fast..." The blond butler got back to doing his own thing as he mumbled under his breath. "You talk like you're Petrov."
"Petrov's going to have our heads if we don't hurry up." Arkham said back as he put all his essentials into his pockets. Knife? Check. Voice recorder? Check—
"Dude, can you pass me my water?"
The spy took in a deep breath and walked to the door, ignoring his roommate. Armani has hands, so he can get it himself.
"Hey!"
Arkham continued ignoring the other butler as he opened their bedroom door. As soon as he was out, he slammed the door shut. Good thing no one was in the butler's hallway other than Matteo, who looked at the new butler in his usual stoic face. If there's anyone who doesn't judge him for being angry, it's definitely Matteo.
"Let's go." The veteran butler walked out of the hallway, and Arkham followed him.
Another thing that Arkham liked about Matteo is that he doesn't ask questions. More like the dark skinned butler doesn't ask unnecessary questions. A moment ago, Matteo could've asked Arkham where Armani was, but no, Matteo went right to lead the new butler to the person who laced his drink.
They speed-walked through the hallways and stairs since running isn't allowed. The White Pearl Mansion is quiet at 8 in the morning because the spoiled rich assholes are still sleeping and having a hangover from their dinner party last night. After going down three floors, Matteo turned a corner and walked right into a wall. His large form disappeared from sight, and all that's left is the undecorated creamy yellow wall in the servant's wing of the mansion.
The spy could only watch in confusion and amazement for a few seconds before Matteo's voice called out for him.
"Five feet off the ground. Tap twice." The older butler's voice seemed to be coming from behind the wall, and Arkham didn't waste any time following.
He did as told, but he got nothing, so he tried again. On his third try, the wall quickly moved like a revolving door. The spy got in, and the wall snapped back into place behind him.
There was a flight of stairs two feet away, and the concrete staircase was dimly lit up by long white ceiling lamps. The walkway was barely two feet across, and the stairs were as steep as one can get, so Arkham carefully made his way down.
He looked calm and collected on the outside, but internally, he's squealing. Finally, some new information. What does the Asters have in their basement? A torture chamber for disobedient works? Most definitely, because that's where they took the "rat" to.
There are exactly twenty four steps, and the heels of his leather loafers made short echoes with each step, indicating that there's a hollow box or room underneath. So... The possibility that there's something else underneath the stairs is almost a hundred percent.
At the end of the staircase, there was a roll of doors, each with a number label in front of them. There were a few other butlers crowded at door 2, where Matteo was waiting for him.
"Your water was fucked too?" A butler who's a few years his senior asked Arkham, and the new butler nodded. The olive skin butler's name tag read "Keller," and if Arkham remembered correctly, Keller is in charge of Staria Sorensen Aster and her fiancée.
He nodded cautiously. "Me and Armani, both."
"We saw the security tape." Another butler with long brown hair, who's in charge of Dyson Hendrik Aster and the golden retriever, chimed in, "Armani didn't get water after 10pm last night, only you."
The spy took a deep breath, bracing himself to give them an honest answer. "He drank from my flask without my permission."
The two butlers cringed at his words, and Arkham only nodded with his lips pressed together. An awkward silence came over them.
"I'm sorry to hear that man. He got knocked out too, but he deserved it." The brown haired butler with the name tag "Leonardo" gave the spy a sympathetic look.
Arkham didn't get a chance to respond when the door behind the two butlers was opened. The metal gear clicking was louder than all of their voices combined. Standing behind the door is Ms. Lin, the head chef.
"We have everything we need." She smiled at the butlers as if she was in the kitchen and calling them for a meal. "Matteo, will you be a dear and dispose of her?"
"Yes, ma'am." The large veteran butler nodded his head and walked inside the room.
The interior of the room is as plain as the concrete walls of the basement hallway, and the room was a perfect cube, each side was about ten feet. In the middle of the room sat a woman in the maid's uniform.
Well, more like tied up, but the point is Arkham recognized her. He had to memorize the face of each and every worker here, and she's the person who stocks up the butler's communal fridge.
Her eyes were a beautiful hazel mix of brown and green, and she's staring directly at him.