Operation Red Book

There were several colorful clouds hanging in the sky, red, purple, pink and yellow, and the clouds were blending with each other like pieces of fluttering silk.

The sun was hidden in the colorful clouds, with only a little orange-yellow color visible. Even though it was blocked, it still tried hard to emit dazzling sunlight to the earth.

The evening light cast a bright yellow hue over the McMillan Manor. The pink roses drooped their heads, swaying in the wind. The branches of the oak trees stretched outward desperately, covering the sky.

Even the white mansion was covered with a veil of dusk, and the yellow-green lawn stretched as far as the eye could see, blending into the hillside in the distance.

The head butler and five or six butlers stood in front of the mansion's gate. Their tuxedos were neat and tidy, their hair was coated with a thick layer of hairspray, and every strand of hair was neatly combed back.

The head butler wandered on the gravel path at the entrance, occasionally looking up at the oak avenue in the distance - that was the only way for guests to enter McMillan Manor.

"Master Andrew! Master Dorian!"

A figure, one big and one small, walked out quickly from the gate of the mansion. The servants immediately shouted their names loudly, causing Andrew, who was already in a hurry, to almost fall.

"Sooner or later these strange rules have to be changed. This is at home, not Buckingham Palace."

Andrew muttered in dissatisfaction, pulling at his white lapels that matched his plush black suit.

"Have the guests arrived?"

Dorian looked serious and quickly put on a blue coat with black patterns on it that looked like a delicate violet.

"I saw a carriage. The servant at the gate of Oak Avenue was leading the way. The driver looked familiar." The butler squinted his eyes and looked out.

"Want to make a bet, Dorian? I guess it's the Marquis of Baxter. Fiona said her father would arrive early." Andrew's tone was full of excitement.

"It's embarrassing to say," said Dorian coldly, "and Lord Baxter will only come with a coach and four horses."

"Ten pounds, I suppose, the Marquis of Baxter!"

"Twenty pounds, Lord Vincent Waite, I suppose."

The dark carriage slowly approached, making a long echo across the vast grassland.

Everyone at the door held their breath, especially the two young masters who had just placed their bets.

Andrew didn't care about his image as a duke at all, he stood on tiptoe and stretched his neck.

"Hey! Why does he look so familiar? It's Sean, the butler of Count Vincent Waite's family!"

The head butler recognized who the visitor was at a glance. He waved his hands and excitedly reported the situation to everyone.

Of course, for the two young masters, this also announced the outcome of the bet.

"Oh! Holy fxxk!"

Andrew cursed angrily, but he regretted it as soon as he said it.

Because the butler's clever little eyes were staring at him without blinking, full of blame and criticism.

"Pay attention to your identity, Andrew, I mean the Duke!" His voice was high and harsh. "Luckily you haven't been disrespectful in front of the guests yet."

"Don't associate with those stinking middle-class people. Don't teach Master Dorian bad things!" he continued.

Andrew smiled and assured the head butler, then reluctantly handed twenty pounds to Dorian, who had already held out his hand.

The carriage moved slowly forward, attracting everyone's attention again, especially the butler Sean who was holding the reins.

He was a child of about eight years old. His stature was in sharp contrast to the huge carriage. However, he could easily control two strong horses with such a petite figure, which showed his extraordinary strength.

Sean has straight medium-length hair, one side of which is draped behind his ear and the other side falls to his chin.

The dark red and brown hair color makes his face look fair and tender, but his stern expression unconsciously makes people retreat a little.

The fragmented identity and serious temperament are concentrated in Sean alone, making people curious but afraid to look at him directly.

"Cousin Andrew! Cousin Dorian! Is Mrs. Emerson all right? I am a little late. I hope I have not delayed the start of the banquet."

In contrast to Sean is his master, Count Vincent Waite, who is polite and elegant, and is the epitome of gentleman and elegance.

Count Waite was wearing a black and brown three-piece suit today, which made him look very tall and majestic.

He was like a fish in water in the social circles of the upper nobility, and everyone in the parliament, the cabinet, the military and the civil service looked at him with special regard.

Of course, such perfect packaging will also attract some disgusted and hateful looks.

"The masked pretty boy will reveal his true colors sooner or later..."

Dorian hummed quietly through gritted teeth, he was one of those people.

"You are the least qualified to say this..."

Lord Waite, holding a set of exquisite emerald enamel bowls, hummed back as he passed Dorian.

Dorian rolled his eyes almost to the sky, charm is the innate talent of the devil, even if it changes into a human, it will exude its charm unconsciously.

Of course there is nothing wrong with this. When a kitten walks on the street, there will always be people who can't help but touch its fur. Can we blame the kitten for this?

Count Vincent Waite was a hypocrite, an old fox wearing a human mask. This was a fact that Dorian had long recognized.

He had met many humans like this, and each one of them was extremely dangerous.