Mystery: Gray Walker

Chapter 37 Confident Henry

港务局

underground warehouse

The damp, musty smell permeated the air, but after two days of ventilation and cleaning, it had lessened considerably compared to the beginning, or perhaps Green had gradually become accustomed to the smell.

Under the lamplight, Green was sorting through the documents he had compiled yesterday, the handwriting of which was still barely legible, and stacking them neatly.

My body was busy, but my thoughts were still lingering on that dinner on Wednesday night, which was called "charity" but was actually a "vanity fair".

It's easy to sneak in, but the real challenge lies in what happens afterward.

How could he make a "reasonable" appearance in public, and how could he explain to Aunt Sylvia, and especially to the shrewd Uncle Victor, why he was at such an event? A temporary worker at the port authority was not among those invited.

Even if these problems are solved, the more troublesome ones are yet to come: how will he get close to and gain the trust of those old guys from the History and Archaeology Society?

They were used to flattery and ulterior motives, so what right did a mere kid like himself have?

He stopped what he was doing, straightened up, patted his dusty hands, and subconsciously straightened his rough work clothes. A few thoughts flashed through his mind, and he muttered to himself.

"A distant relative of some important figure? No, that's too easy to expose, and besides, all those important people will probably be there that night..."

"Amateur enthusiasts with a strong interest in archaeology? They need to do a lot of research beforehand, there's not enough time, and they lack introductions..."

"The nephew or niece of a low-profile benefactor? That would require matching attire, manner of speaking, and even a fabricated identity—the risk is too high..."

"Perhaps... we could create a little 'accident,' like doing a small favor for some important person, and thus gain entry? But that requires precise timing and luck..."

Every idea came with a host of problems and risks, causing him to frown.

Just then, a soft creaking sound came from above. It was the sound of the old wooden door leading to the underground warehouse being pushed open.

Green immediately fell silent. At this time, before the midday break, old Bob usually wouldn't come down.

who is it?

Footsteps descended the stairs slowly, unhurried, with a deliberate air of composure. Then, a voice, tinged with mockery and condescension, rang out:

"Hey, let me check on our new temporary worker... how's the work progressing?"

It was Henry Burns.

Green's eyes narrowed, a cold smile playing on his lips. So soon he couldn't hold back any longer, coming down himself to 'inspect' and cause trouble? This deputy manager's magnanimity and patience were even narrower than he'd imagined.

He quickly adjusted his expression, turned around to face the stairs, and adopted a perfectly measured expression of restraint and respect, bowing slightly.

"Sir, why did you come down here? It's dirty and messy here."

Henry appeared at the corner of the stairs, dressed in a sharp dark uniform that seemed out of place in the underground warehouse.

He covered his mouth and nose with a handkerchief, glancing disdainfully at the mountain of clutter around him, his gaze finally settling on Green and the stacks of newly organized documents beside him.

"The progress doesn't look too good."

Henry strolled slowly down the last few steps, walked up to Green, and waved the dust off his face with a handkerchief. "It's been days, and this is all you've done? Even though you were introduced by Victor, the salary isn't so easy to come by."

His tone sounded like he cared about the work, but the criticism and fault-finding intent in his eyes were all too obvious.

Seeing this, Green put away his smile and said calmly, "These documents are old and severely damaged. They need to be carefully identified and classified to avoid valuable information being mishandled."

Henry scoffed, lightly kicking aside a tattered wooden crate beside him. "The port authority isn't a charity. Efficiency, young man, efficiency is key! I think you're just slacking off here, aren't you?"

He walked over to the stacks of neatly organized documents, casually pulled one out, and shook it. "Besides, these things were all sorted when they were put in. Do you think I'm stupid?"

Green understood that Henry was using this as an excuse to belittle his work, thereby putting pressure on him or even finding a reason to get rid of him.

"Manager," Green replied neither humbly nor arrogantly, pointing to the mountains of obviously chaotic documents and junk.

"When you say 'sort them properly,' you probably mean that they're just piled up here haphazardly. But the specific year, type, and value of each item need to be identified one by one. It would be quick to simply move them around, but that would likely result in missing important documents or archiving junk that should be destroyed."

He paused, then looked at Henry. "I imagine you didn't call me here just to move the trash from one corner to another?"

Henry's face darkened. He hadn't expected this seemingly taciturn young man to dare to contradict him to his face, and to do so with such reasoned arguments.

"Sharp-tongued." Henry tossed the file he was holding back onto the stack of documents. "I don't care what you do, I want to see more significant progress by tomorrow. Otherwise, I'll reassess the necessity of this position, and... whether you're fit to stay here."

A naked threat.

"Tomorrow?" Green frowned slightly; this request was clearly unreasonable. Even if he worked day and night, it was impossible to complete such a massive amount of work in a single day.

Henry seemed pleased to see the troubled look on Green's face.

"Yes, tomorrow." Henry emphasized, taking a step closer. "Any objections? I think you're just slacking off and wasting the port authority's resources. Victor didn't put you in here to be a pampered young master."

Henry interpreted Green's silence as guilt and retreat. His discontent and a twisted sense of superiority swelled rapidly. "I don't think you'll have to wait until tomorrow," he said.

"You can leave now. You're fired."

He paused, looking at Green with a contemptuous and condescending gaze: "You'll be paid on a weekly basis, as a favor to Victor. As for why... you should know."

He suddenly stepped forward and gently patted Green's shoulder, lowering his voice to whisper, "I had no choice. It's all your fault for seeing what you shouldn't have seen. I didn't dare keep you here..."

"If you dare to speak recklessly outside and damage the reputation of the port authority or me... believe me, you won't be able to bear the consequences."

He seemed to think he had completely taken control of the situation, and even began to imagine Victor's reaction upon learning of this, thus preemptively blocking any possible avenues for pleading for leniency.

"As for Victor, I'll naturally make things clear with him." Henry raised his head, his tone arrogant. "Even if he comes to me in person, it won't change anything. I said it."

After saying that, he seemed to have accomplished a trivial task, smiled contemptuously, and then, without looking at Green again, turned around and walked up the stairs he had come from with what he thought was a dashing and composed gait.

The old wooden door creaked softly again, then slammed shut.

The underground warehouse returned to silence, with only dim lighting, pervasive dust, and Green standing there expressionless.

He watched silently as Henry disappeared down the stairs, his eyes showing no trace of panic or anger at being suddenly dismissed, but rather an unusual calmness, even... a hint of barely perceptible amusement.

"Fire me?" Green muttered to himself, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth that looked like a smile, but not quite.

This job was dispensable to him, and he had nothing to be nostalgic about. However, he was still unsure what that hardcover book was, what secrets it held, and whether the curse had extended to him. These were crucial questions.

Most importantly, the book must remain here for now, at least until I am certain it is safe before I can take it away.

He dusted off his hands. "You've come here to your death, don't blame me, Supervisor Henry..."