"Sir, if there's nothing else, I'll go handle other work. Don't forget there's a cultural exchange event you need to attend tonight."
Blackwell, weighed down by worries, closed the office door, leaving Arthur alone in the large office, repeatedly examining the Duke of Wellington's letter.
The Red Devil was perched on the chandelier, his slender tail sweeping the floor. His boring life led him to yawn uncontrollably: "I say, Arthur..."
Without lifting his head, Arthur pulled out a pen from his shirt pocket, laid out the paper, and methodically began writing his report: "What's up? Haven't you always complained that the life in Russia isn't suitable for a devil? Now I've racked my brains to bring you back to London, and you're still not happy?"
"Bring me back to London?" Agares grinned, revealing rows of jagged teeth. "My dear Arthur, it's one thing to deceive White Hall; now you're trying to deceive the devil?"
