Hearing this, Charlotte raised her eyebrows in some surprise.
"You've been socially isolated."
Her tone sounded a bit mocking, but it was more of an attitude of stating facts.
"Geniuses are always misunderstood." Russell shrugged.
"The word 'genius' is not applicable to you," Charlotte said mercilessly. "Of course, if we limit the scope to just you and those guys going to the Icebreaker Party, I could barely accept it."
Charlotte continued, "That idiot doesn't even know his own father is in the opposing faction to Mycroft, yet he dares to drag out Mycroft's name to threaten me."
"You mean Timmy Roy?"
"Who else could it be?" Charlotte picked up the teacup at her hand. "The son of Cabinet Minister Ethan Roy. Stupidity inherited from the father—a perfect biological case study. Ethan Roy's greatest pleasure in Parliament is voting against every bill Mycroft promotes, regardless of whether it's right or wrong. Yet his son attempts to use my brother's name to suppress me. I really don't know which wire in his head is crossed."
As she spoke, she yawned in boredom.
"In summary, regarding the Icebreaker Party on Saturday night—whoever loves to go can go."
"Alright." Russell shrugged and didn't insist.
Anyway, whether Charlotte showed up or not had no direct connection to him.
After leaving Charlotte's room, Russell returned to his own room, took off his clothes, and changed into a relatively ordinary outfit.
Then, he glanced at the time. Feeling it was about right, he turned, went downstairs, and left the house, preparing to catch the nearest tram.
The tram traveled through the afterglow of dusk. Russell leaned against the window, watching the street scene retreat rapidly outside. However, in his mind, he was repeatedly replaying the customized map.
The jewelry in the master bedroom safe, the bribery records in the study's secret compartment, and the scandalous photos under the guest room bed.
This Cabinet Minister's private life was certainly much more open than his stupid son's.
He had already decided; tonight's goal was casing the joint. Familiarizing himself with the terrain, planning the route, and ensuring that Saturday night's visit would be like a perfect play rehearsed countless times.
The tram stopped at a station near Hyde Park.
Russell got off and blended into the hurried stream of people, like a drop of water merging into the sea. He pulled down the peaked cap on his head, shoved his hands in his pockets, and pretending to be an ordinary citizen taking a post-meal stroll, walked toward the wealthy district marked on the map.
The Roy Estate was situated on a quiet street corner. It was a typical Victorian building, three stories high, with a front garden that wasn't large but was trimmed very exquisitely.
Russell walked slowly along the street, just like he was taking a walk, his gaze constantly collecting data around the estate.
[Investigation C+] activated.
The number of guards, patrol routes, frequency of shift changes, visual blind spots...
Judging solely from the outside, the estate's security force was weaker than he had anticipated.
Perhaps Ethan Roy relied on his status as a Cabinet Minister, believing no blind thief would dare target him. Or perhaps, he was certain that even if he were visited, he would at most lose some unimportant worldly possessions, like money.
As for those things that would truly hurt him to the bone or even lead to eternal damnation, he was confident they wouldn't be discovered by anyone.
After seeing the layout of the Roy Estate and the hiding spots of high-value items, Russell had to admit his confidence did have some merit.
But only some, not much.
This actually saved a lot of trouble.
Russell sat down on a bench across the street. He took out a newspaper he had bought that afternoon from his pocket and pretended to read, while actually using his peripheral vision to continue observing the window layout on the second floor of the estate.
"Hmm... entering from the terrace on the east side of the second floor is the most convenient. There's a three-minute window during the guard shift change there, enough for me to pick the lock and get in."
He muttered to himself, like a student performing a final check on his homework.
"Yeah, that should be about right."
After running the entire action plan perfectly through his mind once, Russell nodded in satisfaction, then stood up, preparing to leave this place.
Just then, a magnificent carriage slowly stopped at a nearby street corner, finally coming to a halt in front of the Roy Estate.
The carriage door opened, and a familiar figure stepped down.
Golden curly hair looked somewhat glaring in the dusk's afterglow. That well-tailored suit, and that self-righteous arrogant expression on his face—it was Timmy Roy.
Russell frowned slightly.
He subconsciously raised the newspaper a bit higher, attempting to cover his face, calculating in his mind whether he should leave immediately or wait for the other party to enter the house first.
However, today's Timmy Roy seemed exceptionally sharp.
Perhaps because he had been offended by Russell repeatedly at school during the day, he was full of vigilance toward everything around him.
Just as he got off the carriage, his gaze unconsciously swept around the surroundings, and then, accurately landed on the slightly suspicious newspaper reader across the street.
Timmy's brows furrowed.
He didn't recognize that it was Russell; he merely felt a sense of incongruity from the other party's attire and location.
A guy dressed shabbily, holding a newspaper, sitting on a bench right across from his home.
How could this kind of guy be a good person?
It must be some damn paparazzi again, self-righteously trying to secretly snap some so-called scoops.
A hillbilly, daring to spy on his home?
[Timmy Roy feels strongly offended and angered by your spying behavior. Malice Points +30]
Hmm? Did he recognize me?
Russell, receiving the notification, cursed inwardly, then immediately put away the newspaper, stood up, and prepared to blend into the crowd to slip away.
"Stop!"
Timmy Roy's voice came from across the street, filled with a tough tone of command.
He didn't even enter the house first but strode directly toward Russell in an aggressive manner. Several accompanying guards also immediately followed, faintly forming an encirclement.
Tch, do you have to be so super sensitive?
Russell's brows knitted briefly, then slowly relaxed.
[250 Malice Points have been deducted. Item purchase successful.]
Accompanied by a voice filled with the heartache of spending, two items suddenly appeared in the palm of Russell's hand inside his pocket.
He took one of them out unhurriedly and put it on his face, then allowed the people behind him to catch up.
"I told you to stop—!"
Timmy pressed one hand on his shoulder, his tone very rude.
"Turn your head around!"
As the words fell, Russell slowly turned his head.
"Sir, are you... calling me?"
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