Third floor, end of the corridor.
Humphrey Jennings and Benjamin Durant didn't enter the ward; the window was open, letting the wind in. Humphrey had a cigarette in his hand, unlit, just pinched in his palm, while Benjamin leaned against the wall, one hand in his pocket, long leg stretching and bending.
"What's the situation?" Benjamin asked.
"A professional robbery gang, left no clues. That place, hard to find."
"That's bad, Uncle's friend got into trouble on our turf, and we can't catch anyone, how to explain to Uncle?"
Frowning deeply, Sir Jennings was quite irritable, "With his minor injuries, explain my ass."
"Is that even human speech?" Benjamin disagreed, speaking up for Miguel Smith, "Has to be bedridden for several days, you know."
"Making a mountain out of a molehill."
At the thought of Miguel Smith squawking when getting an injection, Humphrey Jennings felt extremely disdainful.
"Temperamental."
