"Hold on!"
Just as Han Caldwell was pondering how to test West Tower's true identity.
The door was pushed open.
Han Caldwell stood in the center of the Dark Moon Palace conference room, looking somewhat surprised at the visitor. "You're alright?"
"Thanks to Mr. Caldwell, I'm fine." Devlin, wearing a black felt hat and a black wool coat, and perpetually donned those black leather gloves.
Dressed like that, if he held a box of hidden weapons, he'd be a perfect assassin of the night.
"It's good that you're fine." Han Caldwell nodded, patting Devlin on the shoulder: "In the future, you must serve the Undead Tribe. With your intelligence and my strength, as long as we join forces, there will be few rivals in the world! By then, you'll be the top meritorious official!"
Everyone present was a member of the Caldwell Family and Han Caldwell's confidants.
So he made no attempt to conceal his ambition.
