Chapter <b>247 </b>
Adler was still reeling from the revtion when his phone vibrated with a <b>new </b>message. [Hmm, senior year of high school.]
He had no idea how he managed to digest the bombshell. The big shot he was talking to was still a student. All he knew was that he was in for a sleepless night.
If she had been a doctoral student, he might have found it somewhat logical, but a high school. senior… that was downright unsettling.
Oblivious to the effect her words had on Adler, Mirabe pondered for a moment before texting him again. [Could you get me a few ingredients?<b>] </b>
Despite the boss being a student, Adler responded with courtesy. [Name them.]
Mirabe sent a list of ingredients and their required quantities.
Adler was taken aback by the request. (You’re making an antidote?]
Mirabe didn’t hide her intentions, [Yep.]
[Most of the ingredients you can get easily, but… Hellebore might be a bit tricky to find.] Adler typed back quickly.
Mirabe’s fingers glided across the screen of her phone. She was well aware of the rarity of Hellebore. After a brief contemtion, she replied, [Leave that one to me. Send me an address where you can receive deliveries, and I’ll have it shipped to you.]
[Sure thing.] replied Adler<b>. </b>
Soon after, Mirabe asked Adler for his bank details and, within minutes, transferred a sum of
money to him.
Ending the chat with Adler, Mirabe put away her phone and looked across the table at Vincent, who was still engrossed in his meal. She stood up. “I’m heading to my room to rest.”
Vincent looked up and simply acknowledged with a “Sure<b>.</b><b>” </b>
Before long. Mirabe was back in her room. The room had everything, including aputer. She sat at the desk and pressed the power button on the tower. The hotel’sputer wasn’t top–of–the–line but sufficed for inte browsing.
After booting up and connecting to the inte, Mirabe quickly navigated to a website, passed through a couple of security checks, and finallynded on the homepage of “The Mirror.”
“The Mirror” was an elite online marketce where one could find the unfindable–from goods. and information to even contract killers. However, bing a member was an uphill task, with very few spots open annually, not to mention the strict hierarchy. The tiers determined the ess one had to different purchasing privileges.
Mirabe skimmed the homepage without spotting anything intriguing. She then essed the exclusive section of the website and promptly posted an ad for Hellebore.
She had a premium ount, so the minute she posted, “The Mirror’s” admins featured her ad prominently on the main page, even providing aplimentary “shoutout” service. The shoutout meant that every member online would receive a notification about Mirabe’s post, essentially giving her ad a forced promotion.
Mirabe raised an eyebrow at this modern touch, noting the site had kept up with the <b>times </b>during her absence.
The number of online members was substantial, given that evenings were prime rxation time. It didn’t take long for someone to contact Mirabe directly. The person who messaged her was a novice member.
“The Mirror” excelled at user privacy. Transactions were usually straightforward: agree on a price, and the deal was done. The site’s discreet couriers would deliver the items, ensuring no address leaks.