Chapter 195: Irene's Complex Background

"Boss, no! Please listen to my excuse—no, my explanation!" Hausman pleaded desperately. "I was just analyzing, that's all! Just analyzing!" "I swear, I never said Alice was better than you!" Hausman was on the verge of tears. "Boss, I honestly had no idea! And wasn’t it us who didn’t take that job to help find their missing daughter?" What’s going on? How did I accept this new voice so quickly? It must be because the chill in her voice is exactly like the boss’s usual demeanor! In truth, Irene wasn’t all that angry. Hausman’s words had actually reminded her of something important. If others were thinking the same way he was, she would need to prepare herself even more thoroughly. Irene calmly messaged back, "I only just found out myself." Hausman immediately took on the role of the supportive "family" member: "Boss, you better make sure to get some serious compensation from the Norman family! Just look at what they’ve done—they didn’t even find their real daughter before letting some stranger move in and compete with you!" "I still remember when I first met you—I thought you were already thirty! So much life experience, so mature, and it turns out you’re only eighteen!" "When I think about it, it just breaks my heart. How much suffering did you have to endure to become so mature?" "People like me, we’re like this because of our age, but you—you’ve gone through so much!" "If my dad ever did something like that, my mom would have knocked some sense into him!" A faint smile tugged at the corners of Irene’s lips, though it didn’t reach her voice. "So, you’re suggesting I start causing trouble as soon as I get home?" Hausman knew she was joking, but it didn’t stop him from feeling a bit intimidated. Despite his cold, handsome appearance, Hausman had a bit of a gossipy heart. That’s why he handled the intelligence gathering and managed the affairs of their mercenary group. After chatting with Irene for a bit, Hausman started gossiping again. "The Norman family controls a lot of businesses. Based on my research, they’ve got assets worth billions! But honestly, Boss, the Norman family isn’t built for this kind of soap opera drama." "If the person they found wasn’t you, Boss, I’d seriously feel bad for that eighth young lady." Irene’s tone turned serious. "What did you find out about that person I asked you to investigate?" Hausman had uncovered some surface-level information, but that didn’t stop him from reporting. "Boss, I found out that the person you mentioned is likely named Naib Ross. He’s the grandson of a famous adventurer, Mike. After Mike returned to Q Country from the East, he passed his family business on to his son, who then passed it on to Naib Ross several decades ago." Irene knew of this adventurer, Mike. She always thought of them as a band of shameless thieves, not true adventurers. Back in the last century, they formed an adventurer’s alliance, using the chaos of war to loot ancient noble tombs in the East and investigate various mysterious legends. "Go on," Irene said, her voice steady. Hausman continued, "By the time it got to Naib Ross’s generation, they’d stopped doing their own excavations. Instead, they became antique collectors, dealing in items that others wouldn’t dare touch—artifacts believed to be cursed." "Eventually, more and more people started seeking them out, and they expanded their business. Now, they’ve even established a museum. From what I’ve seen, they rake in millions every year just from exhibition fees." Irene’s eyes narrowed. "Cursed artifacts? Be more specific." Hausman explained, "These are usually items dug up from graves. Sometimes, descendants of nobles who’ve fallen on hard times will sell off the jewels passed down through their families. These are the kinds of antiques that these dealers buy the most." There was nothing particularly surprising about this. Hausman added, "Our country has strict laws on its own cultural artifacts, but there’s less regulation on foreign ones. A lot of merchants now transport artifacts here, only to ship them out for sale." Irene gave a quiet "Hmm" and said, "Keep digging. By the way, is Naib currently in the country?" "He’s not, but I’ll let you know as soon as he’s back," Hausman replied. Irene added, "Alright. This month, I’m taking my grandmother to the capital. Find me a house—a small villa with about a hundred square meters on the first floor and a private garden." Hausman hesitated for a moment. "Boss, you’re not planning to stay with the Norman family?" Irene chuckled softly. "You said it yourself—it’s not exactly a welcoming place. Why would I stay there?" Hausman felt a twinge of guilt and awkwardly said, "Hehe, I didn’t realize I was so important to you, Boss! But seriously, if it’s you, there should be no problem! Why don’t we just go and demand some compensation?" Irene couldn’t help but laugh. For someone who didn’t grow up in hardship, Hausman certainly had a strong liking for money. "Not happening," Irene said. "Find me a place with three bedrooms, and make sure the bedrooms are large—Ada isn’t used to small spaces." Hausman grinned. "No problem, Boss!" Typical of the Boss! Look at that pride! Anyone else would have jumped at the chance to move into the Norman estate. Who wouldn’t be tempted by that kind of wealth? But not our Boss—she’d rather earn her money herself! The town’s finest hotel was nothing special to Mr. Robertson. Even so, he’d done his best to make it presentable. He sat in the living room, beaming with anticipation as he waited for Irene to come downstairs. The secretary could tell that Mr. Robertson was genuinely happy. He usually didn’t care about the flowers on the table or the patterns on the carpet. But today, he was even concerned about the shape of the cups, constantly asking the secretary, "Will Irene like this?" The secretary felt a mix of helplessness and joy for Mr. Robertson. "You’ve prepared a wide variety of dishes. I’m sure the young lady will find something she likes." Mr. Robertson chuckled, his face glowing with happiness. "That’s good. You should’ve seen her as a child—she loved meat, and her cheeks would puff up when she ate. It was adorable." "Yesterday, I saw her eating plenty of vegetables. Girls are definitely easier than boys! My sons were all so picky." The old man sighed contentedly, his face radiating joy. The secretary couldn’t help but smile. Right now, Mr. Robertson saw Irene as perfect in every way, far superior to his seven sons. Just then, the phone rang, and the secretary’s smile faltered when he saw the caller ID. "Sir, it’s your wife." Mr. Robertson’s smile faded, replaced by a calm, almost too calm, expression. "Hand it over. I haven’t told her about finding Irene yet." The secretary passed the phone to him. The first thing Mrs. Norman said was, "We need to talk about Alice. I heard from Hanni that you scolded her over some con artist you don’t even know? And you’re still angry?" "Do you know how much you hurt Alice by doing that?"