Piro felt that his luck had truly run out. He had been unable to sell his items for a long time, and now, after finally encountering a buyer, it turned out to be an expert!
In just a few moments, this expert transformed his antique into a worthless modern replica. What was once worth five thousand was now reduced to a mere one hundred! Faced with this sum, Piro found it almost impossible to protest—his discomfort was overwhelming.
A five thousand-dollar item reduced to a hundred—it was such a severe loss that even thinking about the numbers made him want to collapse. He almost packed up and left this place of disappointment.
In the end, however, he restrained himself and chose not to leave impulsively. After some thought, he decided to sell this counterfeit broken mirror.
Not selling it wasn't an option either; everyone around knew the mirror was a fake. Who knew if he'd even be able to sell it for a hundred pounds in the future? By selling it now, he might still earn something.
Donating it? Museums didn't seem to accept such fakes, as they were too lowly in value! Even if they did, he wouldn't want to donate it. Donating wouldn't bring him any money—it was far better to sell it.
With this in mind, he agreed and took out a contract for the buyer to sign.
"Hmph! Sign it, but if anything goes wrong, don't come looking for me!" Piro grumbled.
He was still angry about Zhao Lun's bargaining tactics and didn't bother to hide his resentment.
"Relax! Your wishes are bound to remain unfulfilled!" Zhao Lun smiled, unconcerned by Piro's attitude, and waved for Monica to come over and sign the contract.
Throughout this transaction, it was Nicole who had been responsible for making the payments, and now the signing was also left to her.
The contract had been prepared in advance. Monica skimmed through it, found no issues, and promptly signed it, following up with a cash payment. A hundred-pound note changed hands, and the exchange was completed swiftly.
Zhao Lun, under Piro's watch, casually picked up the mirror. As his hands touched it, an icy, chilling aura emanated from it. This sensation traveled up his arm, coursing through his body and even into his mind, causing him to feel as if he were being frozen.
He paused for a moment, his own energy reacting to the cold aura, quickly neutralizing it. When he regained his composure, no one could detect the hidden mystery.
Finally, he placed the mirror in a bag and carried it himself.
Seeing that Zhao Lun had no immediate reaction, Piro was somewhat taken aback. The mirror had an unsettling "coldness" to it, and without preparation, someone might embarrass themselves. Yet, the young man in front of him seemed unfazed, as if nothing were wrong.
"How is this possible?"
"How could it not be?" Zhao Lun answered confidently, a smile playing on his lips, and he turned to leave. The malicious intent from Piro was all too clear, and Zhao Lun could sense it distinctly. He felt certain that if he stayed much longer, he might be compelled to strike out at him.
It wasn't worth engaging with such a person, so he decided to leave. Besides, it was getting late, and he'd already had a snack on the way. It was time to head back.
"Wait!"
A voice called out from behind, stopping Zhao Lun in his tracks.
"What is it? Are you having second thoughts?" Zhao Lun turned and coldly addressed Piro, extending a hand to keep him at a distance. The man reeked of a pungent, foul odor, reminiscent of the cold, fetid smell of a serpent. The moment Piro came closer, Zhao Lun could smell this unpleasantness, which made his nose burn and almost caused him to regurgitate the snack he'd just eaten.
"Apologies, it's not like that. What I meant was, I have many more antiques at home. If you're interested, you could come over and have a look."
"There are plenty of genuine items. I guarantee you won't be disappointed!"
"Really! Would you like to take a look?"
Piro seemed excited and instinctively moved closer to Zhao Lun.
Zhao Lun immediately stopped him: "Sir, don't you realize that the scent you're carrying is... quite unbearable?"
"Apologies, I assure you, I bathe every morning—three times a day!" Piro replied, his voice defensive.
"Three times a day? Are you sure about that!?" Zhao Lun couldn't help but express his disbelief. With such a strong odor, three daily baths seemed highly dubious. He didn't voice his doubts, but Piro understood, as his face betrayed a lack of sincerity.
"Yes, I'm sure! It's all because of that damned curse!" Piro hissed through gritted teeth, yet his expression didn't show the deep hatred he claimed to feel—he appeared almost relaxed.
"Alright, let's set that aside and talk about the antiques at your home."
"Certainly, sir."
The two discussed briefly, confirming that Piro did indeed have some genuine antiques.
"Alright, give me your address. I'll come by later."
Zhao Lun decided to visit his home, intending to discover what had caused Piro's current, almost cursed condition.
"Sir, the matter has been resolved."
Just as their discussion concluded, Athena's team reported that the bail issue had been handled, sending him a few pictures of the bail.
"Well done!"
Looking at the time, Zhao Lun realized that it had only taken a little over ten minutes to complete the task. He was impressed with the efficiency of his department, which justified his investment. They had truly delivered.
It was getting late, and the sun had broken through the clouds, making the temperature uncomfortably warm.
Looking at his companions—Maria and Penelope—he noticed their faces flushed from the heat, sweat beading on their foreheads. Both were dabbing themselves with tissues.
"Let's go, we should head back," Zhao Lun said.
After bidding farewell to their reluctant acquaintances, the group left Chinatown and returned to their compound.
The courtyard was serene and quiet. The moment they stepped inside, the noise of the outside world was cut off, offering a peaceful sense of comfort.
The previously energetic group, now faced with the calming environment, showed signs of fatigue. They all rushed to the nearby sofa, where they collapsed, only to realize something felt off. They immediately got up and hurried to the bathroom.
The sound of running water echoed for half an hour before they emerged, looking refreshed. They returned to their positions on the sofa and dramatically flopped down, not moving an inch.
"Are you all really this dramatic?" Zhao Lun remarked with a smirk.
The group ignored his teasing, too exhausted to even respond.
"Alright, you all stay here. I'll go check out Piro's place."
Zhao Lun decided not to bring them along, choosing to go alone instead.
Piro's house, located in the old district near the city center, was difficult to find even with satellite navigation.
The old district was crowded, the streets narrow, and the houses tightly packed together, with dim lighting casting a gloomy atmosphere.
Zhao Lun finally found the location, driving his car in.
Piro's house was large, standing out in contrast to the neighboring buildings. It gave off the feeling of being a lone crane among chickens.
However, the entrance was unusually dark, and the surrounding area had poor lighting. As Zhao Lun drove up, an uncomfortable aura hit him—the same cold, foul smell he had sensed from Piro earlier.