"I have a favor to ask of you," Michael stated, sitting in the comfortable black seat of the limousine.
In front of him was the same man who had invited him in, pouring himself a glass of wine.
But of course, he offered a glass to Michael as well. "Would you like some?"
"I'm good." Michael pushed the wine away with mana, causing the old man's brows to furrow.
"I've never met anyone who doesn't like wine."
"Not the time. Now, back to the topic at hand." Michael straightened his back. "Look into the identity of a Michael Dalton—former military, later became a mercenary. Preferably, check if he has any living relatives as well."
"That is no problem," the old man stated, pulling out a laptop.
Michael was expecting to wait for a couple of minutes. However, before he could even take another breath, the old man was already done and rotated the laptop over to him.
On the screen, there was a single result.
