There was a dimly lit office on the other side of the underground arena. It belonged to Fat Jim, who loved the dark.

At that moment, he held a cigar while shaking his legs on the table. The vinyl player was broken, but that did not stop him from smiling.

The case of cash in front of him was the source of his happiness. He didn't calculate how much money there was, but he knew it was the amount that made him happy. He didn't care who the person trading with him was. All he knew was that it didn't matter if Morpheus died—his profit was endless.

-

Earlier.

"Kill Morpheus."

That was the first thing the mysterious man said as soon as he came in.

when he was about to get his men to chase

case made one fall into a

Jim frowned.

who lives and dies." The man chuckled. "I'll give you more

a stack with his chubby hand. The cash was new—there was a smell of ink, a smell that would

cash back into the case. "I won't betray

man smirked. "Don't

eyes dimmed, and he smiled

life is valuable." Fat Jim scoffed. "He hasn't made enough money for me, so how would I bear to let him die? Do you think a case

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