"Of course." Ed nodded readily.
Although he is not too obsessed with food, now that he has spent money, it is not a bad idea to try something new.
"Okay, I'll cut one for you right now."
The sharp voice fawningly picked up the fruit knife on the side and started to cut it directly in the palm of his hand.
The speed of his hand cannot be said to be very fast, but he is quite skillful. He almost only peeled off the outermost skin, revealing the hard, gray-brown fruit eyes.
After that, he used another special W-shaped spatula to cut the pineapple into a thread shape. Judging from the shape, Ed couldn't help but think of Elder Issyk's threaded giant sword.
Finally, Jianyan used a fruit knife to cut off a slice horizontally and put it on the plate. The golden round pineapple slices gave people a visual experience as warm as the sun.
Ed was about to cut the pineapple slices into smaller pieces with a knife and fork, but he heard Chunky Dun advising from the side:
"Come on, just eat it with your hands - that's how we eat it."
Eat it directly with your hands? That sounds a little ungentlemanly... but whatever, I'm not a gentleman anyway.
Ed picked up the pineapple slices and took a big bite like eating bread. There was a faint sour tingling sensation in the rich fruity aroma and sweetness, but no taste of wine, rose water or molasses.
Perhaps because my expectations were too high, the taste of pineapple was a bit disappointing.
"How should I put it, it's not bad." Ed commented honestly. It tastes pretty good, but not nearly as dreamy as the rumors say.
He quickly finished off the remaining pineapple on the plate, took out his handkerchief and wiped the moisture on his palms and corners of his mouth.
Maybe the upper class just needs a symbol to show their status. It doesn't matter whether the pineapple is delicious or not. Power and wealth are the truly unforgettable delicacies.
Once you lose that rose-colored filter, pineapple is just another ordinary fruit.
"Then you see...can you let us two go? We promise to work for you, through fire and water, no matter what." The sharp voice rubbed his palms and asked expectantly.
"Oh? Do you think peeling a pineapple for me is enough to offset the bills these days?" Ed narrowed his eyes and threatened a little.
"No, no, no..." The sharp voice quickly waved his hands, "We just want a chance to redeem ourselves and make meritorious service."
"Okay then." Ed pretended to be reluctant, "I happen to have something that you need to do here. After it is completed, I will rent another hotel for you in the East District, so you don't need to live here anymore. ”
"What do you want us to do?" The two of them nodded.
"It's easy to pick up something for me." Ed stood up and said, "I'll tell you the details on the way. Come downstairs with me first."
The three of them went downstairs, and Ed said to the dark-skinned and gold-clad receptionist:
"Hello, I would like to pay for the expenses incurred by Mr. Fabien Duli Lukus and Mr. Luofili Bonn Dulis for these days and complete the check-out procedures."
"You do not need to pay any fees, and our store does not accept payment for VIP suites. All expenses for the two gentlemen will be paid by the currency holders themselves at another location. We will notify you separately at that time, and you only need to have the two gentlemen sign here. Can."
With that said, the front desk pushed them another printed document.
Pay elsewhere?
Ed guessed that the other place obviously referred to the auction house in the dream. It just so happened that he didn't have much cash on hand, which was a good thing for him.
He glanced down and saw that it was just a simple check-out certificate. After the fat and thin duo signed, the front desk returned to them the club identity coin with the club code engraved on the front and a palm emblem with an eyeball on the back.
"Okay, let's take our leave now."
After speaking, Ed took off his hat and gave a slight greeting, then turned around and walked out with the two of them.
…
The scorching scorching sun at noon did not dispel people's anger. The noise at the usually busy dock was drowned by the roar of dissatisfaction.
It's like a huge machine with stuck gears. Although it struggles hard, it can't move forward even half a minute.
Dock workers, as dense as a colony of ants, blocked the main channel with water, waving scalding banners and signs.
"I implore you, my friends, to get back to work! Aren't your children at home crying for food? Aren't your wives waiting eagerly for you to come home with bread and milk?"
A man who looked like a foreman, wearing a black tie and a bowler hat, was frothing at the mouth and loudly persuading the wooden cargo box:
"I understand that everyone wants more salary, and I also long for more benefits. It is best to get money while lying at home. But will bread grow on trees, will milk drop from the sky into a bucket? ?Go back to your job, friends, and exchange honest work for an honest salary! We will never hold anyone accountable!"
His voice was instantly drowned out by curses and roars, perhaps mixed with a few logical arguments from the audience, but it was quickly drowned in the sound.
Ed lowered the brim of his hat, stuck his cane on his waist, and meandered through the crowd.
The dock strike has been going on for almost a week, which means that the dock area has been at a standstill for almost a week.
The main demand of this strike is to increase the minimum wage to 6p per hour and to increase the minimum daily employment time to no less than 4 hours.
The work of dock workers is not fixed, and there are off-season and peak seasons. This means that dock handling companies have to pay 10%-15% more salary in the peak season and more than 25% more in the off-season.
Policemen armed with batons stood ready, anticipating chaos. A violent crackdown can dampen strikers' enthusiasm, or trigger a wider chain reaction - depending on how angry people are.
But this has nothing to do with Ed. At least that had nothing to do with his main purpose of being here, which was to pick up his order.
This matter concerns the survival and dignity of tens of thousands of people. Even if Ed converts all the faceless iron coins in his hand into cash, he will not be able to pay the workers a week's salary.
This is something that the County Council and even Congress should consider, not something that the Bureau of Investigation agents should consider.
Just when he wanted to continue walking forward and pass through the crowd, suddenly beside him, a figure fell straight and light to the ground, like a scarecrow.
