But the price was that his legs would leave the ground once he sat down.
Who would bother looking under the table to see if his feet touched the floor?
If someone did, he wouldn't mind giving them a shot and letting them feel the cost of insulting him!
He picked up the receiver and dialed a number, quickly getting through.
"My booze got confiscated."
The voice on the other end sounded somewhat gleeful, "I saw the news, booze worth over three hundred thousand, tell me, was there really that much?"
Poli's temples throbbed with a slight ache, "At least two hundred fifty thousand, if they go by market prices, about that much."
The person on the other line even let out a laugh, "Sorry, I didn't mean to!"
"So, what's the aim of your call now?"
"Do you know that damned Director?" Poli asked.
The answer was negative, "Don't know him, they are an independent system, but I do know a High-level Agent inside, though he probably can't help you."