Chapter 141 — Old Buffon's Origins
Years of Heartflutter · Page 121 of 214
So Dorsk's reputation really was poor. Little Dorsk's face flushed red at once, but he did not lose his temper, because his investigations over this period had made it clear that his father was thoroughly disliked and that plenty of people cursed him—one more in front of him made no difference. Besides, Little Dorsk still hoped he might hear something useful from this man's mouth.
Events proved his decision correct, for he did indeed hear something. "Ha, so he's dead—good riddance. What's it to us?" The man's companion raised his glass and said, "Come on, cheers. Forget him."
"Exactly, cheers," the man said, raising his glass as well. "That bastard had it coming. Who told him to be so arrogant?"
"Oh?" The companion drained his drink and then asked curiously, "So he was arrogant to you? Did he push you around?"
"Push me around? I wouldn't say that, but the man's arrogance was just too much," the man cursed. "Just looking at that smug face of his made me sick. I went back to my room to rest and saw a bunch of men in black grabbing an Oriental woman. I asked, out of the goodness of my heart, what was going on, and those men in black told me they were doing business for Dorsk and that I'd better not stick my nose in."
"No kidding? Grabbing people right there on the Alice? That's bold—even for him," the companion said in astonishment.
To be continued.
668. Xiao Qing's Confession
"You said it," the man said resentfully. "Let him be arrogant. See? Sooner or later somebody was bound to do him in."
Little Dorsk, sitting nearby, had heard the whole exchange clear as day, and a strange astonishment rose in his heart. He had never imagined there was such an episode behind it all—his father had sent men to kidnap an Oriental woman?
Then this Oriental woman—perhaps she was a witness, or at least someone in the know. Little Dorsk quickly reasoned that the woman his father had kidnapped was very likely that Shu Ya.
Suppressing his excitement, Little Dorsk walked over to the table where the two men sat, politely indicated an empty chair, and said, "Good evening, gentlemen. May I sit here?"
"And you are?" The man who had been speaking eyed Little Dorsk with suspicion.
"Hello. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Radon Dorsk—you may call me Little Dorsk," he said. "The Dorsk you were just discussing was my father."
"What do you want?" The man and his companion started, staring at Little Dorsk warily. Little Dorsk was no good sort, and he looked fierce, with a scar across his face, so the man's instinctive guard went up. He had just been slandering the fellow's father, and now here the man was before him. Stammering, he said, "S-sorry—I was wrong. I shouldn't have spoken ill of your father behind his back. Please forgive my rudeness."
"No, no." What a cunning man Little Dorsk was. He still hoped to learn something from this fellow, so naturally he would not fuss over such a trifling matter as reputation. He waved a hand and said, "You spoke the truth. My father was an exceedingly arrogant man, and getting himself killed was his own doing."
"Ah?" The man and his companion stared at Little Dorsk in astonishment. After a long pause the man said, "I-is that so?"
"Indeed. But then again, say what you will, he was still my father. Alas." Little Dorsk sighed and said, "Could you tell me the details of what you saw when my father's men seized that woman?"
"Well—all right." Seeing how easygoing Little Dorsk's tone was, the man relaxed and recounted his experience in detail.
"That Oriental woman—was she the star called Shu Ya?" Little Dorsk asked.
"That, well, I suppose so," the man said with a nod. "Those men were so vicious that I didn't dare go closer for a proper look."
"Thank you. What you've told me is very important," Little Dorsk said, patting the man on the shoulder. "This round is on me."