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During the very first stop after leaving Yoke-tan, Jennifer had a strange dream:
— I’m telling you, everything will be fine. It’s a good deal. — The speaker was a thirty-year-old man with a beard.
— Well, I don’t know... — The dwarf shook his head. — Only seven of them. I’ll take a third of the contract, no less. — The short man puffed smoke from a thick cigar. — Are you going to divide four and a half thousand among all your guys? Don’t make me laugh.
— I also called in the “Ifrits,” a trio who were fired from “Spark,” and Desey. You see, that guy is just a pretext. There’s a whole bunch of people with bounties on their heads with him. I counted 87 of them. A quarter of the sum for each side, you can’t leave anyone feeling slighted.
— Hmm, intriguing. — The dwarf ran his large fingers over his long beard several times. — Just make sure you do everything properly, and I’ll add a little something to make it even better. Deal!