Chapter 470 216: "This Is Bad!

Contacting their informants in the field wasn't a quick process, so Owl led Sean and Elise to a lounge area in the corner and had someone bring over two cups of coffee.

The lounge area had two small, round coffee tables. A slightly balding middle-aged man was sitting on the sofa at the other table, likely also at Witch's Bay to ask Owl for help.

Sean made eye contact with him, and they exchanged slight smiles and nods, a silent greeting.

But they didn't make conversation.

People who came here probably preferred not to make small talk, to avoid revealing their identities.

"Your target is a special case, so it might take a while," Owl said with a smile. "If you get bored, Mr. Ain, I can bring you a couple of magazines."

"No need, I can just use my phone." Sean preferred a more modern way to kill time.

With that, he took out his phone and unlocked it, only to find he had zero bars. No service.

Owl teased, "Don't you have any offline games on your phone, Mr. Ain?"

In a place like this, clients weren't allowed to communicate with the outside world, to prevent the police from tracking them.

Even Witch's Bay's own people had to use other methods to contact the outside world.

Sean was speechless.

"Then I'll take those magazines after all."

"Of course. One moment, Mr. Ain."

A moment later, Owl returned.

She had brought fashion magazines.

To Sean's surprise, they featured quite a few clothing designs from Witch's Bay, some of which had even won awards.

"You guys are actually in the design business?" Sean asked.

"It's a side business, you could say," Owl explained with a laugh. "We can't just stay cooped up in here forever; we all need some legitimate public identities. It's like those novelists who secretly write the steamy stuff everyone loves, but publicly, they're respectable authors on some mainstream website. That way, they aren't embarrassed when people ask what they do."

Sean was speechless.

'What a weird analogy. How did I get dragged into this?'

'Who the hell is ruining the reputation of us pure, innocent authors? Why does everyone assume writing a book means writing smut?'

Elise stifled a laugh behind her hand.

Owl thought Elise was laughing at her and asked, "Did I say something wrong?"

"No." Elise glanced at Sean and said with a grin, "Miss Owl's analogy was very fitting."

'Fitting my ass!'

Sean grumbled internally and forced the conversation to a new topic. Flipping through the magazine, he said, "These clothes are quite nice. How are they sold?"

"These probably aren't for sale," Owl said. "Witch's Bay only does haute couture, and we only make one of each design. Many of our clients request this; they want the dresses they wear to be one-of-a-kind, and we can't break our agreement with them."

"If you find our designs beautiful, Mr. Ain, you could always place another order."

Owl winked. "Since you're a new client at Witch's Bay, Mr. Ain, I can pull some strings and give you a discount. Half price. How about it?"

Sean was speechless.

Now he understood.

'So she had him look at the magazine just to advertise her side business.'

'If this were the Farm World, Sean might have actually considered it. One for himself, one for Elise, and another for his sister-in-law. He had the money, after all; he'd barely touched the ten million he'd gotten back from the Florist Family.'

Unfortunately, this was the "New World."

No matter how beautiful the clothes were, he couldn't take them back with him.

Besides, haute couture takes time, and he and Elise couldn't wait that long.

According to Sean's plan, after getting the intel on Fan Ke'er and attending the banquet tonight, they would be leaving the city tomorrow.

So he'd have to pass.

The mention of a "discount," however, did pique Sean's interest.

He closed the magazine and said to Owl, "Miss Owl, you still haven't told me about your fees."

'This "operations center" seemed quite professional. There were over a hundred people just sitting here "typing code," not to mention the fieldwork agents. For a private intelligence agency, this was a pretty large-scale operation. Witch's Bay had to support all these people, and equipment maintenance had to be a huge expense. Whether they were designing clothes or finding people, their fees were probably anything but cheap.'

Sean guessed right.

It wasn't cheap at all.

Owl said with a smile, "To be frank, Mr. Ain, our prices are indeed on the high side. Especially since the person you're looking for is no ordinary individual. Not only is it a hassle to find them, but Witch's Bay also assumes a certain amount of risk. According to our rules, all of that gets factored into the commission."

"But you don't need to worry, Mr. Ain. No matter how high the price, it has nothing to do with you for the time being. We won't be asking you for any money."

Sean asked, "Huh?"

'They aren't asking him for money?'

"Then who are you asking?"

Owl grinned. "We bill whoever recommended you."

This was also one of Witch's Bay's rules.

"So, if you feel that Witch's Bay has provided thorough and efficient service that leaves you satisfied, Mr. Ain, and you decide to recommend us to a friend… you'd better have your money ready beforehand."

Sean was speechless.

'What kind of weird rule is this?'

'The fact that Howard was willing to help by telling him where to look was already a big favor. Now he was paying for it, too? Didn't that just make the favor he owed bigger and bigger?'

Little did he know, this was actually another one of Witch's Bay's "services."

Its purpose was to foster "friendship" between clients.

Whether they were Wizards or ordinary people, everyone understood the social currency of favors. "I help you this time, you help me next time." The client who paid usually wouldn't tell the one they recommended how much it cost, and Witch's Bay wouldn't disclose the amount either. How large that favor ultimately became depended entirely on how the clients themselves chose to play it.