[12:41 AM, 1 hour and 19 minutes past the commission deadline]
The Nightingale Bar returned to its usual lively state after the power was restored.
On the high platform on the second floor, the deputy of the Eagle Claw Association sat next to Reuben, and the two were discussing matters.
Reuben clipped the tip of his cigar with pliers, lit it with a match, and took a puff: "What did the people from the Iron Blood Alliance say?"
Deputy: "They are not very satisfied with the price."
Reuben cursed: "Damn it, I hardly ever do anything big, so what's wrong with asking for a little more money? Tell them it's that price, take it or leave it. If they don't want it, I'll sell it to the people from the Black Domain Group, they will definitely be interested too."
The deputy complied. He pondered for a moment and then tentatively asked, "Boss, the fake box is stored in the warehouse over there, the real box..."
Reuben glanced at him coldly: "Don't ask what you shouldn't."
