<Saturday Afternoon>
In the opulent hall where the Blackthorn Family banquet was to take place, a sizable crowd of staff members had gathered.
-CHATTER!
The buzz of conversation and nervous whispers filled the air. They were to be inspected and instructed for their roles in the grand event.
The head butler, a man of wide stature and an air of authority, stood at the front of the room. His monocle was shining with his white mustache flowing through the corners of his mouth.
His eyes contained cruelty and arrogance as he looked down on countless different people who were gathered here.
Everyone was specifically selected from the agencies that made a name in the sector, but even then, he had complete pride over the fact that he was the worker of world's one of the strongest families.
"Ohom!"
He cleared his throat, and the chatter began to die down.
"Listen up, all of you," the head butler began, his voice firm and commanding. "This is an important occasion for the Blackthorn Family, and your conduct must be impeccable. Any lapse in service or decorum will not be tolerated."
His words may have looked a little tame, but his gaze and the expression of the guards surrounding the crowd were evident.
The lack of toleration meant the end of someone's life….And most people here already knew about whose life it will be….
"This is nerve-wracking," whispered one of the staff members to a colleague. "I hope I don't mess up."
"Me too," the colleague replied, fidgeting with the edge of their apron. "I heard the Blackthorn Family is especially cruel when it comes to small mistakes."
Between the hushed voices, the butler glanced sternly at the assembled staff, emphasizing the seriousness of his words. "First and foremost, we will conduct a spatial-storage artifact inspection. Surrender any such items for inspection immediately. Those found with unauthorized artifacts will be dealt with accordingly."
Even though spatial storage might be a little bit expensive, the workers here were people who would be able to afford the lowest ranks, and the easiness they provided made them worth it.
And even the smallest storage artifact may contain the tools for terrorism, and that was something that always needed to be taken care of by big figures.
The staff members exchanged nervous glances and began removing their spatial storage artifacts, placing them on designated tables for inspection.
Nearby, another staff member eyed the inspection table apprehensively. "I hope they don't find anything wrong with my spatial-storage artifact."
"They're very strict about these things," replied a fellow staff member, their face etched with worry. "I just hope my assignment isn't too challenging."
As the staff members got into the line and their spatial artifacts started one by one, the head butler's gaze didn't leave them.
"Once the inspections are complete, you will be assigned your respective tasks. Serving, guiding guests, and maintaining the decorum of the event are your primary duties. Make sure you do them with precision and grace," the head butler continued.
As the inspections proceeded and the staff members awaited their assignments, the hall grew tense with anticipation.
After all, this moment had the chance to change their lives, and this was something they didn't want to mess up.
However, of course, whenever such huge amounts of people were present, there were bound to be people who were out of the ordinary.
At the inspection table, a stern-looking inspector was scrutinizing the artifacts. "You there? Is this all you have?" His gaze was on the young man with no distinct features.
Black hair and brown eyes, with a slightly slim body. His clothes were clean and ironed, without anything to pick on.
The young man hesitated, then nodded nervously. "Y-Yes, sir. Just a small artifact for carrying my belongings."
However, the inspector was someone who dealt with such things frequently, and he knew a lot of people who thought they were smart would bring another spatial artifact to steal things from the banquet hall.
Even the smallest decoration here would fetch quite a prize, after all.
The inspector didn't seem convinced. He narrowed his eyes, suspicions deepening. "Your ID, then."
The young man fumbled, retrieving his identification card from his pocket and handing it over. The inspector scrutinized it, then glanced up at the nervous young man.
"Leonard Blackwood... Servant staff. Hm," the inspector mumbled, looking at Leonard with suspicion. "Don't think being staff means you can get away with stealing."
Of course, it wasn't that the inspector had already had an opinion about the young man. He was actually using him to set an example for all the people here, and with his gaze, he was also checking if his ID matched with the ones in the database.
The monocle on his left eye was working as an artifact and analyzing the small facial features of the young man and was showing his name.
'It is matching.'
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