Dorothy was puzzled.


    "Again?" she asked, still confused.


    "Why do you always talk about the boss like that? Ever since we started working


    together, you''ve been saying bad things about him!"


    Raylee seemed indifferent.


    "Why so serious all of a sudden?"


    Sensing the tension rising, Amy quickly intervened.


    "Alright, alright. Let''s calm down, both of you. Let''s discuss this properly."


    Raylee did not say anything but pped a stack of files onto Troy''s chest before storming out.


    Dorothy, finallying to her senses, muttered, "I... Just now..."


    "It''s not your fault," Troy said. "After your family abandoned you, it was Mr. Tipton who took you in. It''s only natural you don''t like hearing anyone speak ill of him. But Raylee''s resentment isn''t without reason."


    "Resentment? What''s the reason for it?" Dorothy asked, but Troy did not continue.


    "Let''s just leave it at that for now. Raylee will probablye running back soon, full of apologies."


    "What exactly is his issue?"


    Troy and Amy did not answer. They ced the documents on the table and left the room quietly.


    In the hallway, Troy walked quickly with Amy close behind.


    "You shouldn''t have said that to Miss Dorothy," Amy said suddenly.


    Troy then stopped walking. "I know. I said too much, and now, she might start to doubt things... But Raylee has never forgiven Mr. Tipton, has he? Even if we don''t say anything, he''ll bring it up eventually."


    "Even so, we shouldn''t tell her about that yet."


    "Agreed."


    Fogort and hispanions followed the receptionist to the chairman''s office. However, the chairman was not there. There was only Alistair, who was seated in the center of the room.


    His chair was turned away from the door, so he did not see who had entered.


    The receptionist spoke up, "Sir, the people who called to meet you are here."


    Alistair waved his hand dismissively, his deep voicemanding, "Thanks, you can leave now."


    "Understood." Once the receptionist left, Alistair finally turned his chair around. "You''re not the people who called, are you?"


    "As expected of you, Mr. Tipton, sharp as always," Fogort responded.


    Alistair, with his legs crossed, appearedpletely unconcerned. Goldspin Commerce had grown significantly in recent times. It was not unusual for people toe seeking alliances.


    He assumed they were here to join forces and did not take them too seriously. "So, what do you want?"


    Fogort stepped forward and got straight to the point. "We''re here to ask you to give up the All Souls Token."


    Alistair''s rugged face twisted into a peculiar smile.


    "So, you''re here to steal the token?"


    "No!" Fogort quickly denied it, worried about a misunderstanding. "That''s not our intention at all."


    "Then, why should I give up this hard-earned amulet?"


    At this point, Whistler stepped forward to add, "Surely, you''ve noticed, haven''t you? Over the past few days, wave after wave of people havee to this building."


    "And so what? What of it?"


    "They all came for the amulet, no?"