"Hey, Dejoka." As Dejoka appeared at the door, James greeted him with a smiling face and a warm handshake: "Great to see you. I thought of visiting you when I passed through Davaz last time, but they told me you were busy at the factory."
This was a canned statement; James hadn't left Paris at all during this period.
"Yes, there have been a lot of things at the factory recently," Dejoka replied.
"How's it going, the insurance company must have made a lot?" James asked casually.
"Just okay," Dejoka chuckled lightly. "Besides, we can't call it 'making money', wartime risks are unpredictable."
James hummed as he took two glasses of red wine from Paulina, giving one to Dejoka: "Shire's predictions are spot on, no one can match him in this regard, just like he bombed the steel factory."
James's words had a sharp edge, but his face remained kindly, as if conversing with an old friend after a long absence.
Dejoka laughed it off: "Shire is just doing his best to defeat the enemy."
