Chapter 41: Stefan's Gift

Helen said coldly, "That's not your sister, and she doesn't have the ability to make a living from detective work." Joanna couldn't stand Helen's irrational attitude towards Irene. She calmly asked, "But she really knows her stuff. She took first place in the first round of the competition." Helen was incredulous: "That... that's impossible!" Joanna frowned, "No, when she spoke, she was constantly looking at Hausman, saying it was all Hausman's deduction." Helen sneered, "There you go. She still used that connection." Joanna pressed, "What connection?" Helen rolled her eyes elegantly, "Dora used to have a good friend, Hausman's grandfather. She thought things through before she died." Joanna squinted her eyes, "So Grandma really did have some skills, didn't she?" "Skills? Her deductions have killed people! This is just giving her some face!" Joanna said nothing more, staring out the car window, seemingly lost in thought. Helen and Kashi, meanwhile, were thinking about whom they could find to ensure Joanna could enter the FBI. As for Irene, the family collectively ignored her. In their minds, even if Irene won the competition, they deluded themselves into believing it was all thanks to Hausman. At the same time. Just before Irene could leave the mansion, the guards at the gate politely stopped her. Their tone was even somewhat respectful: "Miss Irene, the boss would like to invite you for a cup of tea. Do you have time?" Hausman was the first to respond: "Your young master? Does he need something from Irene?" The guard glanced at Hausman. What was the relationship between these two? Mr. Hausman seemed very concerned about Miss Irene. Irene looked at Hausman. To her, Hausman was like a loyal Czech Wolfdog, always jumping out to protect her. Hausman's words made people around turn their heads. No way? Stefan was looking for Irene? The guard said concisely, "The young master said he has something from the Kashi family to return to Miss Irene." Hearing this, the eavesdropping crowd turned away, losing interest. Just returning something, huh. Makes sense. Someone as wealthy as Stefan wouldn't be interested in a small trinket. Hausman looked at Irene. His instincts told him that Stefan was no simple man. Looking at the grand Mosinaghan mansion, Hausman felt like he was staring at a spooky haunted house. He whispered, "Do you need me to accompany you?" Before Irene could answer, the guard spoke, "Sorry, sir. Our boss only invited Miss Irene." Irene waved her hand, "No need, thanks, Brother Hausman. I can go myself." Hausman felt a chill. Wasn't this like a muscle-bound Barbie acting cute? Terrifying. Following the guard, Irene entered a room with an oriental flair. The guard opened the bamboo door and gestured, "Please, Miss Irene." Not knowing what Stefan wanted, Irene thought about her actions earlier and discreetly removed the SIM card from her phone. Standing at the entrance, Irene smelled a sweet fragrance. The room had wooden floors, a tea table made from a single piece of wood in the center, adorned with greenery. A screen separated the entrance from the living room. In one corner, a wisp of white smoke rose slowly from an incense burner. That was the scent Irene had noticed. The room wasn't large but was exquisitely arranged. Irene looked around; there was no one inside. The tea table had oriental teapots and cups. Irene touched one; the jade cup was still warm. It seemed the host had been called away. Irene glanced around. Apart from the furnishings, there was a luxurious box on the tea table with a white paper underneath it. The paper had beautiful calligraphy. "Miss Irene, please accept this gift." Irene smiled, her pretty eyes sweeping over the contents of the box. A black card, a familiar collectible gun, a latest-model pocket pistol, and a sharp triangular military knife. Irene laughed, her slender fingers gently brushing the steel surfaces. Her eyes sparkled, looking extremely mischievous. She picked up the pocket pistol. Only she would be pleased; any other girl receiving such a gift would be furious. Weighing the gun in her hand, Irene put it down, thought for a moment, then picked up a pen and wrote a line on the paper. "Thank you, but I'll only take what's mine." "As a token of appreciation, a word of advice: the pistol is fine, but if you're the one using it, you'd better get a different one." Finishing her note, Irene picked up her grandmother's favorite gun, put it in her bag, and left. No sooner had Irene left than Stefan returned. He had seen off Gunter and Felice, calmed Marta, who wanted to go out with Irene, and had spent a long time monitoring the firewall. Now he was a bit tired. Stefan walked into his study and sat in his usual spot. His eyes swept over the note, and his gaze turned cold and dark blue. "Take this gun to the lab." Harper, just entering, turned pale at Stefan's words. Stefan held the note and said coolly, "See for yourself." Harper's eyes changed as he looked at the gun: "I'll handle it immediately." Ten minutes later, Harper returned, a bit of sweat on his forehead: "Boss, the gun indeed has a problem. The lab found it had been tampered with. If fired, it would harm the shooter." Under Stefan's icy gaze, Harper swallowed hard: "In severe cases, it could cause permanent damage." "Dismissed." Irene's note seemed innocuous at first glance, but its deeper meaning was clear upon closer inspection. The gun had been brought by Gunter. Gunter couldn't mean him harm. If he had, he could have done so years ago by not helping him or even sabotaging him. Stefan's fingers tapped lightly on the desk. Who was trying to use Gunter's hand to eliminate him? Besides the Gibson Mercenary Group, this was the second time. Stefan's expression turned extremely dangerous. He put down his teacup, his voice soft but resonant like thunder in the room. In that case, I will strike first. A special ringtone sounded. Stefan answered, gazing at the mansion's scenery, his fair profile soft yet blurred in the sunlight. "Have all the doctors been transferred? Confirmed the time? In half a month." "Alright. If the information is accurate, you'll receive the final payment tonight at seven." Stefan paused, pouring himself another cup of tea. "Boss, the information is correct." Finally, receiving the confirmation, Stefan pulled out another phone and sent a message. "Proceed with the previous assignment."