Living With My Lady Boss by Blue Silver novel Chapter 1778

There must be cultivators in the Jonan family of fairly decent skill, or they would not be after a pair of such normal-looking gloves. Besides, the fact that they were willing to spend thirty billion dollars on a pair of gloves was proof enough of just what those gloves were worth.

Wilbur was certain then that he had hit the jackpot with the gloves. He returned to his room, carefully inspecting the gloves.

They looked frightfully normal, and Wilbur even found that he was unable to channel his spiritual energy into them. The gloves were also not heavy at all, almost as light as a sheet of paper.

Had Wilbur not witnessed the gloves absorbing the power of destruction last night, Wilbur would hardly have dared to imagine just what would happen if he used the gloves to shield an attack from the power of destruction.

Now that he did know, however, he might as well give it a try the next time Greensource Corp sends someone new after him.

…

Over on another end, Pratt and Greg rushed to Cape's consignment shop as fast as they could to ask about the antiques that Wilbur had put there. Sure enough, they were able to find most of the antiques, but the gloves were nowhere to be seen.

To cover their tracks, both men spent almost ten million dollars to purchase a few dozen antiques. Greg tracked down the manager of the consignment shop and asked about the leather gloves.

"Hello, sir. Could I ask if there was a pair of leather gloves that were put up for consignment here, and where they had been sold off to?"

The manager kept a smile on his face as he was dealing with a customer who had just spent almost ten million dollars. "My deepest apologies, Mister Greg. We aren't too sure about that."

"Our consignment shop performs an impossible number of transactions every single day, and we only make a portion of the resold price. We cannot reveal any information about our customers and products we have already sold out of respect for our customers' privacy. Besides, a pair of gloves is… far from specific enough information for us to work with."

Greg widened his eyes in desperation, a pleading expression on his face as he said, "Could you think about it, please? They're not just any ordinary gloves, you know. These are a pair of grayish-white gloves, and they look quite worn. They've been around for a long, long time."

"I'm so sorry, Mister Greg. I can't give you that information. However, seeing as you're a premium customer of ours, I'd be more than happy to gift you a new pair of leather gloves personally as the manager of Cape Consignment."

"Enough."

Walton glared at Pratt, who promptly shut up as Walton turned to Greg. "You can explain yourself to the Holy One, then. I'm sure you know what to do."

Greg widened his eyes at the mention of the Holy One, and he bowed to Walton. "I'll get to that right now, Sir."

Greg got up to leave, and a young man walked up to him outside. "Is there anything I can help you with, Mister Greg?"

Greg looked at the young man. "How have I treated you before this, Ecker?"

Ecker walked alongside Greg. "Mister Greg has been nothing but good to me. I'm willing to do anything to repay your kindness."