Trafford's Trading Club

Chapter 1247: Secret Battle

The tragic and painful screams suddenly stopped not long after.

It wasn’t a gradual fade, but an abrupt, unnatural halt—as if someone had cut the sound off entirely. Zhong Luochen’s expression shifted slightly as he glanced at the time, realizing that he had been standing there for more than an hour.

The slight numbness in his legs proved it too.

The door slowly opened. The first thing that caught Zhong Luochen’s eye was 24’s messy hair. His face showed no expression beyond cold indifference—or rather, he looked even more emotionless than a surgeon walking out of an operating room. He said casually, “Failure. Prepare the next sample and come to me again.”

Zhong Luochen’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly as 24 yawned and walked past him. Only after that did the second young master of the Zhong family take a deep breath and stride into the glass chamber.

Inside, the deranged vagrant they had brought in was squatting on the floor like a frog. His eyes rolled wildly and erratically, and his throat bulged as he made strange, inhuman sounds.

A chill crept down Zhong Luochen’s spine.

But just then, the vagrant—whose body no longer even resembled a human’s—suddenly reached out, grabbed his own tongue, and began pulling hard. His eyes rolled even more frantically, as though in some kind of ecstatic frenzy.

Finally… the tongue was torn out.

Zhong Luochen took a half-step back. The metallic stench of blood in the air made his body react instinctively. He left the room, reached the doorway, bent over—and vomited.“Second Young Master! Are you all right?”

The security staff rushed forward in alarm, but Zhong Luochen raised his hand to stop them. Slowly straightening up, he said calmly, “I’m fine. Clean up the mess inside.”

The guards exchanged uneasy looks. One of them finally gathered the courage to enter, only to gasp sharply and fight the urge to retch. By the time he came out, pale-faced, Zhong Luochen was already gone.

---

Two calm days passed.

In an empty office floor of a building owned by the Zhang family, Song Ying was working when she received a message she had been expecting—from Mr. House.

The future pharmaceutical collaboration would be handled entirely by Mr. House’s assistant, Jimmy—who would personally visit today.

The initial negotiations went smoothly. Considering the massive potential and profit of the new drugs, Jimmy, on behalf of Mr. House, signed the preliminary agreement with surprising ease.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Song.” The young man flashed a charming smile after a morning of discussions. “You must be new to the city. Would you do me the honor of joining me for lunch? I’d love to introduce you to the local cuisine.”

It wasn’t appropriate to refuse such an invitation right after signing a deal—and Song Ying saw no real reason to decline.

She wasn’t worried about offending Mr. House’s assistant or jeopardizing future cooperation. Mr. House, if he wasn’t a fool, would naturally recognize the value of the new drugs developed under the Song family’s name.

These medicines were created by the eccentric genius known as Mr. Blind, within a pharmaceutical company funded by the Song family.

The Song family’s fighters often entered dangerous war zones, sometimes even working as mercenaries in foreign conflicts. Their fatality rate had always been high—until their private pharmaceutical company began developing life-saving drugs, which significantly reduced the number of deaths.

The new medicines selected for this collaboration were only mid-tier among the company’s many products. The truly high-end ones could cost tens of millions of dollars to produce each, making them unfit for mass production—and extremely difficult to manufacture.

Last year, they had only produced a few of the special “Life-Preserving Pills,” all of which her father had taken away. That was at Mr. Blind’s suggestion—to be given to Luo Qiu. Song Ying had only taken two of them herself and knew well how precious they were.

It wasn’t that the Song family was unwilling to let their descendants use them regularly—it was simply that taking too many would be harmful.

Having personally experienced the miraculous effects of the Song family’s medicines, Song Ying had full confidence in them.

“I’ll just go change my clothes,” she said.

Leaving Jimmy waiting in the reception room, Song Ying returned to her temporary office. She lifted her hair thoughtfully, then seemed to make up her mind and picked up the phone.

---

“Don’t want to go out today either?”

Standing behind the dressing table, Luo Qiu gently smoothed Luo Ya’s straight, silky hair before placing a hand on her shoulder and bending down to ask softly.

The girl didn’t speak—she only tilted her head up, blinking slowly. But that was enough to convey everything. Luo Qiu smiled faintly, understanding that her spirit was weak again today.

She wasn’t particularly fond of sleeping—it was just that her waking hours were short. Most of the time, she slept deeply. This wasn’t a physical problem; in fact, her body was remarkably strong. Though she had lost her power, her sheer physical strength was terrifying—when awake, she could crush Vajra Stone into dust with just her fingers.

“Tired?”

Luo Ya nodded, turned around, and hugged his waist, resting her head comfortably against him. Luo Qiu stroked the back of her head gently, soothingly.

“Mianmian.”

Soon, her breathing steadied into sleep. Luo Qiu called softly, and a pink body pillow leapt out into the air, limbs spread wide, sparkling like a cartoon star.

“Take care of her.”

“Yes, Master!”

Mianmian instantly expanded to the size of a bed. Luo Qiu carried Luo Ya onto it and tucked her in before leaving the room.

Outside, Miss Maid stood quietly, hands folded before her.

“It seems Luo Ya won’t be able to enjoy your lunch again today,” Luo Qiu said with a small smile.

“Does Master not plan to solve Miss Luo Ya’s sleep problem?” Miss Maid asked gently.

She could usually read her master easily, but when it came to Luo Ya, even she struggled to grasp his thoughts.

Luo Qiu shook his head. “I’ve thought about it, but somehow, I feel it’s better to let things take their natural course… just intuition, I guess.”

He walked toward the stairs, Miss Maid following.

“Your intuition is always accurate, Master.”

“Maybe that’s not necessarily a good thing,” Luo Qiu said lightly. “By the way, how’s the design going?”

“Everything is progressing smoothly,” You Ye replied thoughtfully. “It should be ready to go live in that world before Master leaves.”

Since she said it was smooth, Luo Qiu had no doubts. He never questioned Miss Maid’s capability.

He joked, “Once it’s live, I might officially become useless.”

Miss Maid understood what he meant. Ever since Chen Mingming, the club hadn’t officially opened for business for quite a while—a break like this had never happened before. Even during his last personal leave, Luo Qiu had delegated full authority to You Ye as temporary manager.

Having served the club for over three hundred years, she had her suspicions about the current state of things.

In just a year, the new master’s control over the club already seemed to surpass that of his predecessor.

“Master doesn’t intend to take new clients?”

“That’s not it.” Luo Qiu shook his head. “I just don’t feel as eager as before. Why, do you prefer the old pace?”

Miss Maid leaned her head lightly against him, whispering, “You Ye doesn’t need to teach Master anything anymore.”

“Then dance with me.”

As he spoke, the hall came alive around them. With the music of an old phonograph filling the air, master and maid began to sway slowly together.

You Ye remembered the early days, when her new master knew nothing—yet their days had been just as peaceful. In truth, nothing had changed.

Time… was simply like that.

A notification tone interrupted the moment just before the song ended. Luo Qiu glanced at the message and looked thoughtful.

“Seems I won’t need lunch today.”

Miss Maid hesitated slightly.

Luo Qiu lifted the phone—it was a message from Song Ying.

“Master intends to go?”

He nodded. “Don’t you think it’s strange how Dimensional Observers keep appearing one after another?”

“I’ll prepare your clothes.”

---

The restaurant was a private club owned by a French-trained Michelin three-star chef, frequented by social elites.

Luo Qiu’s arrival didn’t alarm the security at the entrance. He arrived five minutes early to the appointed place—only to see a woman in a tailored suit standing there, holding a set of clothes in her hands.

The woman froze for a moment when she saw Luo Qiu, then steadied herself and walked up with a polite smile. “Young Master Qiu, hello.”

“Hello… have we met before?” Luo Qiu asked curiously.

The woman smiled sweetly, dimples showing. “Young Master Qiu, I’m from the village—same year as Gan Hong, but I majored in business management. Just call me Ziyun.”

“Song Ying asked you to wait for me?” Luo Qiu nodded slightly, acknowledging her.

Ziyun quickly said, “Miss Ying couldn’t get away right now, so she sent me to wait here for you—and to prepare something for you, in case… well, I guess that’s unnecessary now.”

She lifted the neatly folded clothes she’d brought and made a playful face, sticking out her tongue helplessly.

“I already had something prepared for me.”

Which was why Boss Luo felt he was drifting ever further down the road of uselessness—since his outfit, naturally, had been personally chosen and tailored by Miss Maid before he left.

It seemed like any potential inconveniences or difficulties that might have appeared in other people’s stories simply never happened to him. That alone showed how meticulous Miss Maid’s care really was.

“Young Master Qiu, this outfit… is it designed by Astaroth?” Ziyun suddenly widened her eyes in surprise.

“Astaroth?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Astaroth is the most mysterious fashion designer in the world—no one knows if it’s a man or a woman. In the fashion industry, Astaroth is at the absolute top. Many billionaires spend fortunes trying to get one of their creations and still fail.”

Luo Qiu looked down at his clothes, which he’d put on without much thought, and asked curiously, “Why do you say that?”

Ziyun pointed at the pin on his collar. “Here—see this? This is Astaroth’s signature mark! I’m a devoted slave to Astaroth’s designs—there’s no way I’d mistake it!”

Slave, huh…

Luo Qiu chuckled softly, unpinned the ornament from his collar, and smiled. “All right, let’s go in. No need to keep people waiting.”

Though she didn’t quite understand why he did that, Ziyun didn’t question it. Instead, she said playfully, “Young Master Qiu, it’s good to go in early! If you’re late, who knows what moves that Jimmy will try next? Miss Ying’s already tired enough—she’s been dealing with those annoying men for years! You have to make sure this Jimmy backs off!”

Hmm…

To Luo Qiu, with Song Ying’s personality, most men would probably back off on their own from the start.

With Ziyun leading the way, Luo Qiu entered the restaurant’s dining hall—but he suddenly felt a gaze from afar.

He turned his head slightly, just in time to catch a shadow flicker in the distance before disappearing completely.

“Are there any other guests expected today?” Luo Qiu asked suddenly.

Ziyun blinked, then shook her head. “No one else. Just this Jimmy inviting Miss Ying for lunch. Oh, by the way, let me tell you about him. Our company’s currently collaborating with a foreign investor—Jimmy is their representative. This cooperation…”

---

“Miss Ying, your friend hasn’t arrived yet?”

“He should be here soon,” Song Ying replied with a composed smile.

“I wonder how I should address him later,” Jimmy said with a courteous grin.

“His surname is Luo,” Song Ying said casually, glancing out the window.

Jimmy quickly searched his memory for anyone with that surname who had influence or status. But then again, Miss Song herself had appeared out of nowhere. Perhaps this “Mr. Luo” had done the same.

At that moment, the door to the private room opened. Jimmy immediately recognized Song Ying’s assistant, and beside her walked a young man—clearly the one she had been waiting for. He observed the newcomer closely.

Song Ying frowned briefly, then stood up and quickly walked toward Luo Qiu, her expression soft and radiant. Naturally, she took his arm and turned to Jimmy. “Come, let me introduce you. This is the real boss of our company.”

Jimmy’s expression didn’t change. With a polite smile, he stepped forward and offered his hand. “Mr. Luo, a pleasure to meet you. I’m Jimmy, the representative for this collaboration. Let’s not stand—please, have a seat.”

As Jimmy sat back down first, Song Ying suddenly frowned again. Her nose twitched slightly—she had caught a faint whiff of perfume.

“Hmph.”

Miss Ying gave a soft, disapproving snort, quickly withdrew her hand from Luo Qiu’s arm, and returned to her seat.

(End of Chapter)