Chapter 62: The Troublemaker Arrives

“Apologize to Irene.” Seeing the improved atmosphere in the livestream, Hausman yanked his brother forward. The young master mumbled an awkward apology. “Too quiet, I can’t hear you.” The young master spoke louder. “Didn’t you eat breakfast?” Hausman glared, shouting at him. 【SweetTeaLovesMe: Haha, let the kid off, he’s about to cry.】 【BigWindBigWaves: Reminds me of my commanding officer in the army. Scary.】 【ViolentDragon097: This is how it should be! Is the host someone to be insulted?】 【HappyFamily: Host, you have a loyal fan!】 Irene chuckled as the young master was reluctantly dragged away by Hausman. She ended the call, saying, “Thank you all for your support. Today’s free connections are over. If anyone is facing trouble, you can visit the address on my profile.” 【PalmTree: Host, are you also at this detective agency?】 Irene: “Yes. Thank you for your likes and support. Today’s livestream ends here. We’ll start again tomorrow at 9 AM. Don’t miss it.” 【WhereIsMyHaagenDazs: Host, it’s too short, we haven’t had enough yet.】 【ViolentDragon097: My God! Did you see that gift effect just now?】 【BreadLoverSeagull: Angel’s Heart! The most expensive gift!】 【SweetTeaLovesMe: I’m fainting from envy. Who sent that?】 The next second, the stream went black. The host has closed the stream. At the same time. In Y Country. Stefan loosened his tie, the collar slightly open, leaning back on a luxurious sofa, looking more relaxed compared to his demeanor back home, and undeniably more dangerous. An elegant gentleman in a striped suit raised his glass: “Mr. Stefan, to our successful collaboration.” He stood up, “I’ll leave you to your rest.” The door closed with a heavy thud. Harper whispered, “Boss, Miss Irene might not have seen your gift.” Stefan glanced at Harper. Harper’s heart skipped a beat under that gaze. “Boss, just join the stream earlier tomorrow.” Stefan gave a faint acknowledgment, then turned to his assistant Walter: “Contact Peppis Griffin. Ensure the task I assigned is completed swiftly.” In Q Country. At the old Kashi Mansion. Irene looked at the livestream statistics, a small smile playing on her lips. She had seen the two comments, but they were not reasons enough to prolong the stream. In just one day of streaming, Irene had gained thirty to forty thousand followers, all active users, an impressive feat. Just as Irene was about to share the good news with her grandmother, a private message popped up in the background. **Admin089: Hello, host! I’m the supervisor of the section you’re in charge of.** **Irene: Hello, is there something you need?** **Admin089: Yes, I represent the platform and would like to ask if you’re interested in signing a contract?** **Irene: A contract? I thought contracts were only for big hosts.** **Admin089: Not necessarily. I’ve reviewed your livestream data; it’s impressive. You have great potential.** **Admin089: Also, here are some platform rules and restrictions. It would be a shame to get banned over a technicality.** **Irene: Thank you.** Irene glanced over the files sent by the admin, then went to find Grandma Kashi. Unbeknownst to her, even after ending the stream, the buzz about the detective agency didn’t die down online. Emma had clipped some interesting parts of the livestream and posted them on Irene’s account. In less than a minute, there were over a thousand comments. **ViolentDragon097: Host, you cut it too short, you know that?** **CottonCandy: Why did she end the stream when I found this treasure host? Crying T﹏T** **BlackCat: You guys have taste! Our host is beautiful and kind! She respects the privacy of children and treats money like dirt!** **MetroStation: Aren’t you exaggerating?** **GetOutOfMyWay: Not at all. At the end of the stream, a big shot sent an Angel’s Heart to keep her streaming, but she didn’t even acknowledge it and just ended.** **MetroStation: That’s crazy. Doesn’t she want to make money?** **WhereIsMyHaagenDazs: The host’s real job is a private detective! She even knows the deputy director of Orne Security!** The online buzz only grew. People messaged Irene asking if she could help catch cheating spouses or collect evidence of their husbands’ infidelity. Some even asked if she could check their homes as they felt they were being followed. Yuna, holding her phone, ran over excitedly: “Irene! Irene! Is this your stream?” Before Irene could nod, Yuna rushed over and hugged her: “You’re amazing!” At that moment, a disdainful, familiar voice came from the street corner. “What a shabby place, small and cramped. Look at this floor, so dirty. How long has it been since it was cleaned?” The speaker was Hanni, the housekeeper of Miss Alice Raphael, invited by Barton’s assistant for treatment. She was accompanied by bodyguards who remained silent. The bodyguards had a look of contempt in their eyes. They had been with the Norman family for some time and remembered the scene when this person and their young lady were first brought back. Both were dressed in washed-out jeans, and Hanni looked worse than Miss Alice, almost like a homeless person. If not for this, Robertson would never have agreed to keep Hanni. Now, just a few years later, she had forgotten her roots. Word was, she had a tight grip on Miss Alice’s affairs. Hanni hadn’t finished complaining: “Does she really need me to come in person? The Norman family treats Miss Alice like their own granddaughter. She’ll definitely be the one for the alliance in the future!” “What’s the big deal about an assistant? Does she think being called a master detective means anything?” The bodyguard frowned, secretly turning on the recording device in his pocket. Hanni, feeling the bodyguard’s hostile gaze, smiled without any sign of panic. “Before I left, Miss Alice insisted on this. I couldn’t change her mind, so I had to come myself.” Meeting the bodyguard’s skeptical look, Hanni continued, “Later, I might need your help to bring Miss Alice out.” The bodyguard refused without hesitation: “No, we have a strong grip, and she’s still the young lady…” Before he could finish, Hanni had already turned away, moving faster than an ordinary middle-aged woman. Another bodyguard frowned: “What do we do?” “What do you think? Just one word—no!” the first bodyguard gritted his teeth. “She wants us to offend someone? Dream on!” The two bodyguards exchanged glances and then followed at a considerable distance.