Trafford's Trading Club

Chapter 845: Chapter 89: The One Who Grants Dreams and Futures (4)

“Wait a minute.”

As they passed a teaching building, Harry suddenly stopped and told Boston he wanted to use the restroom. Boston shrugged, saying he would wait for him outside.

Harry then quickly walked into the teaching building, and just as he was about to leave Boston’s line of sight, he quietly turned his head to take a quick glance and found Boston was about to light a cigarette. He stepped in swiftly, escaping Boston’s view.

From here on, Harry hurried a few steps, then started to sprint—there were numerous entrances and exits in the teaching building.

Harry frequently looked back and finally stopped at another exit. Turning around to check behind him, he didn’t see any trace of Boston, and only then did he slightly breathe a sigh of relief.

So next…

“Harry, where are you planning to go? Is the delivery over here?”

Unexpectedly, at that instant, Boston’s hand landed once more on Harry’s shoulder—Harry didn’t know when Boston had caught up!

Harry took a sharp breath, “Hey, I was just about to look for you, how did you end up here?”

He quietly clenched his fist, planning to take the opportunity to punch Boston in the face—but before he could, an immense force had already struck his own nose… Boston was quicker on the draw!

Boston punched Harry squarely on the nose, and instantly followed with a knee strike to Harry’s abdomen. Harry doubled over in pain, and Boston seized his hair, pulling him up, “Tsk tsk tsk, Harry, Boss Arno told me to keep an eye on you.”

Harry struggled a bit, but Boston easily managed to knock him to the ground—as the most capable fighter in Arno’s team, it was no problem for Boston to take Harry down.

“Seems like you’re hiding something from us.” Boston picked up the bleeding Harry, “I think I need to take good care of you.”

In the darkness, a pair of cold eyes quietly watched everything unfold, watching Harry’s futile resistance, and finally seeing him taken away by Boston before quietly retreating into the shadows… 403.

…

In front of room 403, Arno stopped walking. His gaze swept over the crack in the door and, upon seeing the placed thread, said nothing.

Arno turned his gaze and directly opened the door to enter… The room’s environment was immediately visible; it was empty, but the sounds from the bathroom could be heard.

Arno squinted his eyes, keeping a certain distance from the bathroom, moving slowly but never taking his eyes off the bathroom door.

Seemingly about to come out, the person inside… Arno had already moved to the desk, quietly picking up the knife on the table, hiding it behind his back.

Click.

Caroline emerged from the bathroom, her head down, towel-drying her hair. But she noticeably hesitated upon seeing Arno in the room, instinctively saying, “Didn’t you say you were going to the Library?”

“Library?” Arno glanced at Caroline, slowly walked over to the sofa, sat down and shook his head, “Feeling a bit unwell, suddenly didn’t feel like going.”

Sitting down, Arno quietly stashed the knife in the sofa crevice, and casually turned on the TV with his back to Caroline.

Unexpectedly, Harry… Arno squinted his eyes again.

“Unwell?” Caroline paused for a moment, then after some thought, poured a glass of water and placed it in front of Arno, before sitting down again, continuing to dry her hair.

Apart from the sound of the TV, there was no conversation.

At this moment, Arno’s phone suddenly rang; he glanced at it, noticing it was Boston calling… Caroline curiously asked, “Not answering?”

“Oh, no caller ID, might be a sales call.” Arno chuckled, casually shutting off the phone, then inquired, “By the way, how do you feel today?”

Caroline relaxed against the sofa, saying rather casually, “Not bad, thanks for taking me out for a while, otherwise I’d suffocate.”

“That’s good.” Arno nodded slightly, adding, “Thanks for the hard work these past days.”

Caroline shook her head, “What’s up? Suddenly getting sentimental.”

Arno replied, “Perhaps it’s the night, thinking too much… Besides that? Any other thoughts?”

Caroline opened her mouth, recalling what ‘Arno’ had said at the masquerade ball, and said, “May I consider it a bit more… that matter.”

“Of course.” Arno nodded, “Naturally, I should give you some time…”

Speaking, Arno stood up, walked over to the fridge, opened it, and after looking in, “Want something to drink? I can go downstairs to buy it.”

“Beer, why didn’t I think of it just now when I came back.” After Arno left his seat, Caroline directly lay down, “I’d die without beer.”

“Then wait for me, I’ll be back soon.” Arno smiled, then headed out the door.

Something feels… not quite right. Caroline furrowed her brows, then suddenly noticed something hard seemed to be pressing against her leg.

Confused, she reached into the sofa crevice, only to pull out the TV remote… Caroline hesitated, shrugged, and started watching TV.

…

When Arno arrived, Boston was playing a mobile game—in fact, Boston was sitting on Harry.

Harry’s mouth was busted, one eye swollen, his head drenched in sweat—pain made him constantly break out in cold sweat.

Seeing Arno arrive, Boston quickly stood up but continued to press his foot on Harry’s back, pushing him down forcefully, “Boss, this guy won’t say anything, insists on waiting for you to come.”

Arno nodded, glancing around—Boston obviously hadn’t left the university in such a short time; they were in a multipurpose room within the teaching building.

“You go outside.” Arno instructed indifferently.

Boston nodded, flipping Harry over before walking past Arno, “Boss, I’ll wait for you outside.”

Arno then dragged a chair, placed it next to Harry, and sat down. He scrutinized Harry lying on the floor a few times, then bent over and grabbed Harry’s chin, shaking it from side to side, examining his facial injuries.

Their gazes locked fixedly on each other.

Finally, Arno released his grip, “Caroline.”

Harry moved his lips but didn’t speak, while Arno sighed, “You know I’ve been looking for her… Tell me, why hide her from me?”

Harry didn’t speak.

Arno seemed full of patience, saying to Harry calmly, “You won’t speak, so let me guess… When I returned, she called my name, meaning she still doesn’t know you’re Harry, and even less so that you killed Livia, hmm… You hid this from her…”

Watching Harry’s evasive gaze, Arno abruptly said, “You’re interested in her?”

Harry suddenly sneered, “Is it possible? How could I be interested in a whore for everyone? Even if I were interested, it would just be because I plan on having some fun.”

“Like playing with Livia?” Arno said calmly.

“Like with Livia.” Harry replied emotionlessly.

Only then did Arno nod, smiling slightly and saying, “That’s right, how could you do something against me? Certainly didn’t plan on sneaking away, right?”

“Yes… yes, I won’t.” Harry nodded faintly.

Arno suddenly kneeled on the ground, grabbed Harry’s hand, and a cold gleam flashed by. Harry instantly screamed in agony… The scream was long, Harry’s eyes widened, his face contorted in pain as he struggled to breathe, gazing helplessly at… his hand, which was stabbed with a knife.

This was the knife from room 403.

Arno leaned in close to Harry, continuously hushing him, touching his face and whispering, “Don’t you remember who helped you dispose of Livia’s body?”

Harry struggled for a moment, yet Arno pinned him down.

Then Arno said coldly, “Forgot who killed your parents?”

Harry suddenly roared like a madman, “I didn’t!!! He charged at me himself, it was he himself… I didn’t!! I didn’t!!! He wanted to hit me!! I didn’t!!”

“Didn’t? Then why did you come to beg me?” Arno forcefully grabbed Harry’s hair, lifted it, and then slammed it to the ground, “Beg me to help you? Should I help you remember how you knelt in front of me, saying you regretted it, that it wasn’t intentional, and begged me to help you?”

“I… I didn’t…” Harry stopped struggling and stared blankly at the ceiling, “I didn’t… I didn’t…”

Arno pulled the knife out of Harry’s hand, the action tearing the wound, making Harry instantly clutch his hand in pain, his body curling up.

“It’s okay now.”

Arno helped Harry up and sat him on a chair, then soothingly stroked Harry’s hair and softly said, “It’s okay now, it’s okay now. Harry, you wouldn’t betray me, right?”

“We are co-conspirators, having personally stained the blood of our relatives, we came into this world together… we will never be separated.”

“Dear Brother.”

Harry remained motionless.

“Did Caroline tell you anything…” Arno stood behind Harry at this moment, gently pressing his shoulders, leaning to his ear, asking softly, “About that bank card?”

“She…”

Arno’s hands slightly exerted more force.

“She said the money was entrusted to her by a mysterious person for safekeeping, but the money inside couldn’t be used, otherwise there would be big trouble, big trouble… Maybe, maybe it’s black money.”

“Anything else? What about contact information?” Arno continued to ask.

Harry shook his head.

Arno released his hands, suddenly said, “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt Caroline. After the exam tomorrow, I’ll leave, bring you back… you can do whatever you want.”

With that, Arno left the activity room, looked at Boston outside the door and said, “Take him to deal with the wound, bring him over tomorrow, be careful, don’t let him escape.”

“Understood, Boss.” Boston nodded quickly.

He glanced at Harry in the activity room, saw him hanging his arms down, blood dripping from his fingers, yet remaining motionless, secretly admiring Boss Arno… This Harry, might really be crippled.

…

“Sorry, met a classmate downstairs, chatted…” Arno opened the door… but saw Caroline already asleep on the sofa.

After putting the beer in the fridge, he fetched a blanket and covered Caroline, then sat at the desk.

He turned off the big light, leaving only a desk lamp, then took books and reference books from the bookshelf and began burying himself in questions from the books.

…

…

Click.

The sound of a light switch.

The location was a private hospital room. At this time, Mr. Ofi, sleeping on the sofa, woke up due to the light.

“Oh, sorry sir, I woke you, I didn’t know…” Bara said apologetically, looking at Mr. Ofi.

Dr. Ferenc went missing from the hospital during the day and was found just before evening, sent back by an ambulance.

“It’s okay, in the end, you had to work overtime, I still have to apologize to you.” Mr. Ofi shook his head and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll pay you overtime.”

“That’s no big deal.” Bara smiled and said, “Sir, you’re alone, it’s difficult to manage. By the way, I brought some clothes and food from home for you… maybe you could use the bathroom to take a shower, it might make you feel better.”

“Thank you.” Mr. Ofi nodded gratefully.

Bara shrugged and said, “If you really want to thank me, then sir, you should find a wife soon, that way I’ll have it much easier.”

Ofi casually said, “Then you’d probably be out of a job.”

“Let’s drop this topic.” Bara rolled his eyes and began tidying the things he brought from home. When he took out a brown notebook from the backpack, Mr. Ofi curiously asked, “What’s that?”

Bara casually said, “It’s the Doctor’s notebook, right? He woke up once during the day and said he was looking for this. I found it in the Doctor’s coat pocket while tidying up at home and brought it along… seemed quite anxious about it.”

“Anything written inside?” Mr. Ofi wiped his face and asked casually.

“I didn’t look.” Bara shrugged and said, “Employee rules, don’t casually look at the master’s private things, I’m quite professional.”

“I’ll still pay statutory overtime, won’t be extra.”

Bara showed a middle finger.

Mr. Ofi smiled, feeling slightly relieved, then walked to the table, casually took the notebook, went to the sofa, opened and looked… seemed like diary entries.

“Sir, I’ll wash the fruit now.”

“Oh… go ahead.” Mr. Ofi waved his hand.

First page.

7:30 a.m., I left home today, Bara’s breakfast was pancakes with milk. I ate three pancakes and one-and-a-half glasses of milk.

8:55 a.m., I reached the research institute, was 17 minutes late today due to traffic jam on the way. Traffic was bad, there was a car crash on Third Avenue.

9:45 a.m., attended regular meeting, meeting notes are on the third drawer of the desk.

10:16 a.m., Matthew called and invited me for dinner on Saturday night, I agreed.

Gradually, Mr. Ofi’s brows furrowed… he’s seen diaries before, but diaries detailing every single event like this, he rarely sees.

Mr. Ofi gradually felt something was amiss.

5:00 p.m., I left work on time…

9:17 p.m., Ofi hasn’t returned yet, I’m planning to sleep now, feeling a bit tired today. Medicine prescribed by the Doctor is almost finished, must remember to visit hospital tomorrow.

My memory is worsening, not sure how long medication can control it, hopefully… hopefully while I still clearly remember some things.

Even if I forget who I am or forget the way home.

Hopefully, I still remember Ofi.

Hopefully, I still remember Louis.

Hopefully, when I see them, I can still call their names.

“Father…”

…

“Sir, what’s wrong?” Bara came with washed fruit, saw Mr. Ofi lowering his head, covering his eyes, curiously walked over.

Mr. Ofi instead wiped his face, voice a bit hoarse, “It’s nothing… maybe just a bit tired.”

“Sir, you…” Bara looked at Mr. Ofi’s reddened eyes, “… cried?”