Time Ghost

Chapter 13

“So, what’s you wanna dig from me?”

James Watson commenced first-take offer against the flat-cap wearing man without delay. The brown-coated bodyguard leers upon him to intimidate, but then goes unsuccessful due to the solitude upon the black-haired man’s eyes.

Damn, this is tough. Dimitri kept tilting over the gun and gazing at me dreadful. It’s not about Johnson, now, but more like on how to influence Dimitri for losing the pressure over my bare foot. No window on their vigilance. I can see their fearsome defiance has consumed everyone in the negotiation table. Those fierce-looking balls could never wait to wash up a little of patience within it.

You have to be made out of steel, indeed. James Watson, is this your daily problem to take care off lately?

“Hmm......”

After a moment of silence, from which are occurred across the verge of the opposite end, Johnson Goddard hums a little. His pair of eyes were twitching ahead of the questionable opinion from the managing director and twisted hard in contemplation. Meanwhile, Dimitri laid out a similar posture towards the man and stood watchful over any signals that would ruin their statement afterwards.

“How about you tell me what happened back there, James? It’s amazing, but did you remember who’s Gordon Herald in this country?” Said the flat-cap wearing man.

James Watson sneered, mocking back at Johnson Goddard with his eyes,”I suppose you’re out of the rule for asking me back, but I guess it’s so-so if I don’t communicate myself over your interest.” He added.

”He’s nobody, isn’t it?”

Against James Watson’s confidence, the flat-cap wearing man commands a bland expression over the face. Two hearts skips a beat once as it runs upon the clock. Of the innocent man in glasses and Damien’s soul, apparently, for the spirit thought about such reply to oppose a tiger and its admirable lion.

~swoosh~

Wind blows across the shoreline. Bass-boosted speakers cry out in jubilation from afar. No delicate response from the other man towards such reply.

“What now, John?” James Watson asked,” It’s unusual to stare at me too much, you know? I’m curious.”

Johnson Goddard shakes his head in disbelief,”My man, I’ve met the real you now! Where’ve you been?” He said. The flat-cap wearing man then smacks a hand onto James Watson’s chest,” Don’t press too much, though. He could actually be dangerous for our toys.”  

He tested me out, huh.

Well, I’ve actually crossed that cigar off the list. You have more incriminating backstory than him, Johnson Goddard, and I watch your steps in caution.

A full one minute after their classical stand-off is mostly hysterical. Johnson Goddard drinks guava juice as they slouch upon the chair. James Watson selected the mango ones as favorites amongst the choice taken, whilst Dimitri pokes over a small glass of vodka straight away.

“You’re a bodyguard, aren’t you?”

Dimitri chugged another glass and replied towards James Watson’s query,”No, I’m a butterfly!” He said afterwards, implying a pair of butterfly’s wings on both arms. Ahead of the sudden act from His subsidiary, Johnson Goddard laughed.

“Ha-ha-ha-ha! That’s why you’re also my man, Dimitri!” The flat-cap wearing man patted Dimitri on the back in satisfaction.

---

Stillness affects creativity, so it occurs within the mind of James Watson under the shades of his mansion’s garage.

The young man called such domain as “The Blue Dragon’s lair” for it was prescribed upon the wall before Damien’s entrance into his life. Blue and purple concoctions were simmering above the bunsen burner. Boiled to perfection, one might say, due to its floating bubbles alongside the hot steam of the water.

“Alright. We have the pair of them on board, now it’s the time to mix those liquid.” James Watson mumbled.

~blub-blub-blub~

James Watson lifts the measurement cups higher than the other. He chooses the blue one over purple to pour. Reactions proliferate once the cup goes flying on top of. It overflows slightly and dripped down into the bottom with ease.

The man sweats,”Here we go..” He said, carefully treated the blue-toned cup to cascade it down against the purple ones beneath.

~boom!~

Tiny explosions shuddered both arms of the man once it collides.

Lucky for me, this garage condemns out-loud type of person and their things. James Watson specifically installed a lot of foam-made wall backgrounds upon different areas of his mansion.

Unlike me, this geek fitted a bunch of these for voice-leaking countermeasures. I wonder who’s listened to my moan in the past?

~tak-tak-tak~

James Watson writes upon the white board. To extend hypotheses and annotate any current phenomenon, scientists usually produce paper-like surface for means of mistake correction. A rich person has no worries over money spent to enlarge such needs. Usage-wise, the-man-in-glasses has fixated a line of board-shaped space all over the horizon. It is accessible in any “crisis of paper” circumstances. If James Watson wants to scribble, the mansion’s floor would be nearby to supply him with resources and recorded them all forever in place.

Of course, the man himself has to instruct the mansion’s maids for lesser cleaning on top of the notes. He provides permanent marker for those specially-designed arrangement, indeed, but any person could erase one if they put a focus into it somehow.

~ting-tong~

‘Boss, it’s your assistant, Sarah Berlintsmann. She wants to meet you, and it is urgent.’