Having a powerful lord as a father figure, what's wrong with just wanting to draw cards?

Nightwish, a nightclub in the city center.

Literally, this pub is only a pub at night; at other times it's a proper restaurant, albeit with far fewer customers than at night.

The restaurant that Domi was talking about was this one. He had eaten here by chance before, and that meal left a deep impression on him.

Not only are the dishes delicious, but the restaurant's decor is also exquisite. It innovatively uses the starry sky as its theme, replacing the entire ceiling with a pitch-black night sky, adorned with twinkling starlight.

There seemed to be no place to install the magic lamp, but in reality, those starlight lights were the lamps themselves.

At night, they emit exceptionally bright lights, illuminating the entire pub like a disco.

A nightclub under the stars—how romantic! Bring your girlfriend to Nightwish and get ready to dance!

This is also why Nightwish is so popular among young people.

However, this charm is greatly diminished during the day.

The daytime sunlight shone on the basalt floor. Only a few people were scattered around the store. Domi and Morey were at a two-seater table by the window.

Looking at the exquisitely prepared food in front of him, Morey didn't even know how to start eating.

She kept glancing at Domi, wanting to learn how he ate, but also afraid that he would laugh at her for looking so unsophisticated.

Domi didn't pay much attention to this, nor did she rub salt into Morey's last bit of pride; she simply ate slowly and deliberately.

He knew Morey was very hungry, having gone three days without eating seven meals, so he demonstrated for him while waiting for him to finish eating. Only when a person is full will they have the energy to think about things other than filling their stomach.

Morey was not used to cutting food with a fork in one hand and a knife in the other. He usually only used a spoon, and his stiff movements made it difficult for him to eat even a piece of meat.

However, when the carefully cooked roast meat was put into his mouth and melted on his tongue, and the aroma of the meat bounced between his lips and teeth, he felt that his whole body was sublimated. What did it matter if he ate slowly!

After that, he became more and more skilled, wolfing down his food and quickly finishing all the food in front of him.

Although I don't care about his eating manners, Morey really looks like a reincarnation of a glutton.

Domi chuckled and beckoned to the waiter:

"In addition to what we just served, bring one of each of the other dishes on the menu."

Morey was shocked to see Domi's attitude of treating money like dirt. Who orders the whole menu at once?

"My lord... I'm almost full, no need for you to spend any more money."

The more Domi gave him, the more he felt he owed her more and more; the amount he had eaten before already exceeded ten silver wolves.

If he kept eating like this, he was afraid that he wouldn't get the ten silver wolves, but would also lose several golden dragons.

Even if you sold him, you couldn't afford to replace him.

"Ha, it's no big deal. It's my treat, so eat whatever you want, eat as much as you want."

"After you finish eating, pick out some of the dishes you like to take to your mother."

Upon hearing Domi's words, Morey not only did not do as he was told, but instead put down his cutlery, sat up straight, and looked at him with a self-conscious but still courageous gaze.

“My lord, I only showed you the way. You just need to give me those ten silver wolves... no, it doesn’t matter if you don’t give them to me, and there’s absolutely no need to bring me here to eat. I’m just a lowly person.”

However, the more Morey acted this way, the more Domi felt that this kid had potential.

At such a young age, he already knows how to advance and retreat, and is quite filial. With proper upbringing, wouldn't he be several times better than those hypocrites?

It would be a waste to leave such talent buried in the slums, so Domi couldn't help but feel a desire to cherish him.

"Mmm~ You're right,"

Domi picked up the wine bottle and poured some for Morey and himself; the fine wine shone with a clear luster in the sunlight.

As he swirled his wine glass, watching the liquid move, he said:

"Our agreement does end here, but in the meantime, I've seen the good in you. Let's be frank, Morey, if you work for me, your future will be much more than just that garbage dump."

"Perhaps you will rise to prominence, possess unimaginable wealth and power, eat such food every day, walk down the street in fine clothes, and enjoy the envy of your neighbors; or perhaps you will be left to rot in the streets, becoming a dead rat that everyone wants to kill."

One thought can lead to heaven or hell; the future depends entirely on your choices and actions.

"Sorry, what I'm saying might be too abstract, because that's something that happens when you're an adult."

For now, all you need to do is learn everything like a sponge—combat, management, interpersonal skills, cultural knowledge…

I will provide you with all material support, and you will no longer have any worries.

After listening, Morey pondered for a moment and then asked:

"So who exactly am I to you? Undercover agent, henchman, manager, front man... I need to know my place, right?"

"good question!"

Domi held up the swirling glass of red wine between himself and Morey, the crimson wine reflecting their youthful faces.

"Positioning, positioning... If I really had to describe this positioning, my answer would be—my right-hand man! I need you to be my right-hand man, Morey, to become my most capable assistant!"

Upon learning the answer, Morey felt his heart skip a beat.

Domi had placed such high hopes on him.

With such a vast difference in their social status, he still chose himself from among the vast sea of ​​people. Was it a conspiracy? Or manipulation?

Do these things still matter?

It's better than spending your whole life struggling and wasting your time in the garbage dumps of slums!

He made up his mind, picked up the wine glass beside him, which contained the expensive red wine that Domi had poured for him.

It was lifted up and positioned slightly below it, colliding with the dominoes.

Hey~

The toast made a crisp sound, as if the god of contracts had flicked a coin representing loyalty; before the coin hit the ground, the sound would last forever.

Domi's mood immediately improved, and the smile on his lips widened even more.

"Nice to meet you. Please introduce yourself."

“My name is Dominic Bloomfield, son of the owner of this land… ha ha, at least this tavern belongs to me.”

Bloomfield...Bloomfield...

What a familiar surname! This territory is called the Land of Bloomfield!

And this wealthy young man sitting in front of him, talking so eloquently, turned out to be the young master of Bloomfield!

That's not just a rich young master, he's practically a rich emperor!

Morey felt that he had been more shocked this morning than he had been in the past eighth of his life.

But that wasn't all. Domi then said:

"Oh, by the way, as a gift, I'm giving you this 'Nightwish' restaurant, and all the profits from running it will be yours."

"After all, you know, at my age I can't leave home often, so let's just say that includes future financial support~"

Chapter 53, Section 52: Bloomfield Doesn't Adopt Unnecessary People

Trading a small tavern for a virtuous and trustworthy right-hand man is an incredibly good deal.

Even if this tavern is located in the city center, where land is incredibly valuable, and the annual revenue it can generate from the Golden Dragon is quite substantial, what does it matter?

Born into the Bloomfield family, money was never a problem.

After they finished their first birthday celebration, Carlos divided a small portion of the estate among the three brothers.

Edward, who seemed to have the greatest business acumen, received the largest share of properties, distributed across various industries. Argyle's share was similar, consisting of profitable pawnshops, such as taverns and weapons shops...

Aside from Nightwish, he owns three large taverns, so giving away one wouldn't make a difference at all.

But for Morey, this weight is not light; it can even be described as heavy, carrying the heavy expectations from Domi.

Morey looked around at the sprawling pub, the tables, the staff, everything here—it all belonged to him now.

All of this made him feel as if he were in a dream.

I pinched myself.

Ouch... that hurts quite a bit, it's not a dream.

Looking at Domi again, I felt how magnificent Domi was at that moment.

They not only gave him a hearty meal and countless sums of money, but also a future!

The next moment, without warning, he stood up, walked out of the table, and came to Domi's side.

Before Domi could react, he heard him kneel down on one knee in front of him with a thud, his head bowed.

Before, even if he buried his head in the mud, no one would give him a second glance.

Now, his bowing has dignity, and he gives this first dignity without reservation to the person who gave him this precious gift.

“My lord, I will remember everything you have given me, and I will never forget it, especially during my most difficult time.”

"Here, I offer you my loyalty."

Morey had seen a knight being knighted by his master from afar, and he remembered not only the sacredness of that moment but also the knight's oath, putting his knowledge to practical use.

Despite his small stature, he exudes a certain air of sophistication.

Domi gently patted his shoulder: "Alright, get up. Instead of thanking me, you should take this opportunity to think about your future plans."

"After all, you're the owner of this shop from now on, and you'll have to learn how to run it. You'll need to keep learning and trying to manage it, so you don't have much time left."

"Anyway, work hard, Morey. I'll come see you again at the end of this month. Hopefully, by then, you'll have shed your poor kid image."

After arranging the handover procedures, Domi picked up his top hat and cane and left Nightwish.

It was lunchtime, and the three-lane sidewalk was filled with office workers rushing to get lunch, all looking hurried.

The coachmen who provided temporary transportation services were thus kept busy, carrying white-collar workers who were taking their lunch break to their designated restaurants.

The area was bustling with traffic and very lively.

Because the sun was shining brightly today, residents of the high-rise lofts with their Victorian-era style were hanging clothes and bedding out to dry on their balconies along both sides of the long street. This lively activity added a lot of life to the otherwise serious-looking street.

Newsboys called out, selling the newspapers that hadn't sold out that morning: