You're Welcome

Ainsley was stunned. Did Sinclair just say that it was from a drug? Wait…

"Are you asking me if my coworkers are taking prohibited substances? And if they were willing to let people know about it? What do you think of your employees? Street junkies?" At every sentence, Ainsley's voice was raising. However, before he could continue, Sinclair stopped him with a hand gesture. His hand closed on Ainsley's lips as if influencing them not to open at all.

"Don't get me wrong. That's where things get very complicated. We carry out health exams annually, and those employees never tested positive to anything worth our attention." Sinclair released Ainsley from the small spell. "How it got into their systems is crucial for us to know. There is simply no way they would ingest that willingly."

"…I don't know anything in particular. They all know that I am quite close to you and that I pretty much like my work. They might be speaking to others." Ainsley sighed before rubbing the back of his head. "S-Sorry for the outburst, Sinco. I didn't mean to make it sound like you didn't trust them all. That's my bad."

"It's alright," Sinclair only answered with a soft voice. He then got up from the bed. "Stick to indoors today, please? I don't want to hear about you getting in trouble again. If you want food delivered, just text me. I'm going now—!"

"Wait!" Ainsley remembered something before grabbing his shirt from last night and putting it on in a flash. He then fiddled with the new phone before pulling on Sinclair as if trying to make him sit down again. He leaned on Sinclair's back and placed the phone before them. "I found some cute built-in filters for the camera! Let's take a photo!"

Sinclair wanted to smirk at the idea, but he frowned at the screen. "Hey, why am I a monkey?"

…

Tapping sounds resounded in the dark room. Sinclair opened the door while keeping his eyes on the phone. He kept on tapping as if bargaining-slash-bribing Ainsley not to post the stupid photo. However, he was forced to stop when his nose caught the smell of blood.

His eyes grew sharp and flicked at the sight before him. He could see a chair where Roth sat… with ten bodies on the ground. They were meeting in an abandoned parking building, and there was nothing there but this scene.

Sinclair pocketed his phone and walked towards the man. "What am I looking at?"

"Seven of them are dealers. Three are whisperers… or whatever they could be called." Roth answered while leaning on his chair. His elbow was on the rest, head on the palm. His leg was even dangling from the other rest. Such a 'majestic' pose for a dragon prince. "Can I have my money?"

"This is not what I asked of you." Sinclair frowned, but he still took a cash card from the inner pocket of his suit. Roth readily got to his feet and wanted to take it just like that, but Sinclair held onto the card. He then glared at the man as he repeated. "This is not what I asked of you."

Roth then reached into his pocket and produced a small bottle of a potion. He shook it lightly in front of Sinclair's face. "This is what you asked for, but it's rather useless without the casters or the wizards making it." He reached out and carefully stuffed it in the same pocket where the card came from. "You're welcome."

At those words, the card was released. Roth's eyes glittered at the sight of the cash card and at the thought of gambling again. He didn't care how much he burned on his new hobby. If Sinclair was allowed to work his ass off in a human company, he could burn his money in one of theirs.

A sigh escaped Sinclair's lips. He really wished Roth was drunk every day. His willingness to punch his brother would lessen by half when Roth was drunk. Right now, he stopped thinking about the other. He stared at the unconscious people on the floor. Blood was coming from their wrists from the ropes that bound them.

"Stuart." Sinclair whipped out his phone and called his servant. "I have something for you to work on. I also want you to get Mother to call me soon." He took out the potion and looked at it, aligning the bottle under the dim light of the abandoned parking floor. "I have a very important sample for her to take a look at."

The phone call ended, and Sinclair's image vanished slowly like a rippling mirage.

…

A soft hum came from Ainsley's lips as he tapped away at the laptop that he owned. It was also bought by Sinclair years ago, but since it was a high-end model, it didn't easily degrade over time. He was chatting with some of his coworkers as if trying to gauge how everyone was after the sudden outbreak of the strange symptoms.

Everyone was scared and worried, but none of them felt the need to not go to work anymore. The people on the CEO's floor are very important to the company, so they couldn't just call in sick. Not to mention that the pay was big, and they were allowed to use up their leaves during Christmas breaks instead. Staying here was pretty much their dream job…

Minus the stress from everything else.

"It's not like we can tell what's causing it." The particular girl he was chatting with replied. "We all shared this office, and all of us didn't get sick at all. It should be something that they drank or whatever. Why? Did Mr. King tell you about them?"

"Does it really have to be Boss? Everyone here could speak to him." Another responded to their chat. It was on a group chat among the employees after all. "Hey, Len, how's life? I wish I have an extra seven days for a leave, too."

"That's easy! Get wrecked in a car accident first. I can negotiate with Boss about the seven-day leave." Ainsley followed it up with evil emoticons.

The chat was rather lively as it was their lunch break already, and the group was basically eating in the pantry. They were all on their phones, occasionally growling and hitting one another.

At this, Ainsley sighed. The employees didn't seem to be hiding anything. He then scratched his head, trying to work out something to help out Sinclair. After all, if he got back to them on Monday, there was a big chance that his work would double. No, triple!

When Ainsley was about to sign out, he received a private message from one of them.