A Small Gathering of Friends

Richard Cassel was a crime novelist.

As a writer.

They all had a peculiar shared ailment: the female protagonists in their stories, while not necessarily formidable, were invariably sexy.

Unfortunately.

Beckett detested being called sexy. She wanted to prove that her promotion to detective was due to her professionalism, not her looks.

Cassel chuckled, "We’re best friends, right?"

Lake glanced at Cassel. "Not helping."

Cassel blinked. "I haven’t even said what it’s about yet."

Lake let out a laugh. "You went and investigated Beckett’s mother’s case without authorization?"

Cassel looked bewildered. "Beckett told you?"

Lake shook his head. "You’re a wealthy magnate asking me for a favor. What else could it be? It’s simple deduction. We writers also make a living through deduction."

Although Lake often preferred a blunt and direct approach, his deductions were based on a certain foundation.

Besides.

He had the cheat system. When he was vacationing in Europe, Cassel, following the gears of fate, met Beckett at a party, who had invited him back to investigate.

Counting the time, it was about time.

Cassel said, "Alright, can you help…"

"Not helping."

"…"

"I don’t get involved in any emotional issues, and besides…"

Lake flatly refused. Other people’s family and emotional problems were private matters, and Lake detested getting involved. Most importantly, "I remember half a month ago, when you came to ask me about Beckett’s mother’s case, I told you not to touch it. Why didn’t you listen?"

Lake had watched Castle.

But…

Lake couldn’t recall who Beckett’s mother’s killer was for the life of him.

Moreover.

It wasn’t just Lake; even George had considered helping Beckett solve the case. However, after getting to know Beckett better, she had directly told them not to interfere, stating she wanted to investigate it herself, even if it took longer.

Lake and George respected Beckett immensely and immediately agreed.

After that…

Lake and George didn’t inquire about the case anymore.

"This case is a thorn in Beckett’s heart,"

Lake said to Cassel, "If you truly want to help Beckett, apologize to her, sincerely. She’ll forgive you. Beckett is a good woman."

Cassel: "…"

From a personal standpoint, it was difficult for Lake to refuse Cassel’s request.

However…

Who knew if his interference would cause Beckett, who was destined to be with her husband, Cassel, a serious literary author, and eventually become a member of Congress, to vanish without a trace.

Lake didn’t want to take responsibility for that.

Cassel sighed. "Okay, thank you."

Lake smiled and looked at Cassel. "Trust me, maybe in the future, you’ll thank me for not getting involved in this."

Cassel looked at Lake.

Lake pulled the handbrake and unbuckled his seatbelt. "I’m here. Thanks."

Cassel looked out the window.

Starlight Tower.

…Wait.

Cassel rolled down the car window and shouted at Lake, "Damn it, a one-hour drive, and you got me back in less than half an hour? Are you trying to get me a stack of speeding tickets?"

Before his words fell.

A police officer, who had been following them the entire way, appeared before Cassel with a dark expression. "You, you are suspected of dangerous driving. Get out and come with us."

Cassel: "…"

The next evening.

In a police bar not far from Starlight Tower.

Three people were drinking.

Lake.

George.

Cassel.

Lake and George clinked their glasses and drank them down in one go. "The bourbon in New York is still better. The bourbon in Washington, the taste… it’s hard to describe."

George said, "I saw the report. Congratulations."

Lake said thank you.

Cassel, standing nearby, looked displeased. "Hey, hey, hey, what about my problem? Can you guys show me some respect?"

George raised his hand.

Lake sighed and said to Cassel, "I already told you, you don’t need to thank me."

Cassel’s mouth twitched. "A two-thousand-dollar fine, why should I thank you?"

"Did Beckett bail you out?"

"…Yes, but…"

"So, you’re welcome."

"…"

Cassel took a deep breath and looked at Lake thoughtfully, his eyes holding a mixture of astonishment and disbelief.

Lake shrugged. "You asked me to help, and I did. And it only cost two thousand dollars. Believe me, if you had done it yourself, you would have spent more than that."

Cassel was half-believing. "Really?"

Lake pointed at George. "If you don’t believe me, ask George. Last year, there was a guy just like you who wanted to crack that case. When Beckett found out, she completely cut ties with him. What was his name again?"

George shook his head. "I forgot too. I heard later he was transferred to the countryside."

"New Jersey?"

"Right."

"…"

Mission accomplished: Insult New Jersey.

Lake and George clinked their glasses again, and Cassel, snapping out of his daze, joined them.

The three of them drank in one go.

Ever since Cassel got close to Beckett, he had also gotten familiar with the police officers. Cassel learned that in some specific bars, you might not see any officers in uniform, but the number of police officers present would actually be the highest.

So.

When Beckett didn’t have any cases, Cassel would go to police bars all over New York to drink and listen to the idle chatter and small stories of the police officers there to enrich his database.

The three of them sat in a booth at the bar, drinking and chatting.

Lake savored the rare moment of peace.

It felt good.

Drinking a little with two friends, chatting, and shooting the breeze.

But…

As they were talking…

Lake’s expression changed.

The conversation seemed to have taken a wrong turn.

Lake snapped back to attention, his expression growing increasingly strange as he listened to George and Cassel discuss their experiences raising daughters and their taboos about daughters dating. He couldn’t help but cough. "Hey, hey, hey, the conversation has gone off track."

George and Cassel looked at Lake, confused. "Off track? It hasn’t. We’re just chatting normally."

Lake said expressionlessly, "Do you think I can join in on the conversation you two are having?"

Damn it.

Just because they have daughters, does that make them special?

I have a daughter too.

Catherine, female, twelve years old, race, vampire… no, blood race.

It’s just…

She’s a daughter, but our races are different, so we can’t achieve the same level of mental connection.

Lake opened his mouth, then shook his head. "I finally get a chance to rest. Besides, don’t you guys plan to talk about something I can participate in?"

These kinds of friends are too annoying.

They don’t even know how to chat. I might as well go home and drink alone.

George thought for a moment and then said to Lake, "Then let’s talk about that little loli from last time?"

Lake immediately looked at George speechlessly.

Cassel became interested and asked George, "What’s the situation? Tell us about it."

Lake interrupted, "There’s nothing to say."

George, ignoring him, proceeded to recount how Skye and Lake had a chance encounter at a corner and then told Cassel what happened.

Cassel seemed to recall something and looked at Lake, "Was that the day an ambulance stopped downstairs?"

Lake rolled his eyes, "An ambulance stops at the building once a month."

As the saying goes.

Everyone in Starlight Tower was wealthy, and considering when Starlight Tower was built, it was obvious some of the rich were getting old. An ambulance coming once a month was quite normal.

There was an elevator in the building that, after a resolution by the building committee, was specifically designated as an ambulance-only elevator.

Cassel looked at Lake, "What happened after that? What about that little loli?"

He probably hadn’t adopted her.

Cassel figured if Lake had adopted her, he would have known.

Lake said, "She ran off on her own."

Oh, right.

Tomorrow, he’d check if Skye had been adopted by a good foster family.

If these two hadn’t brought it up, Lake would have almost forgotten. After all, he and Skye had some sort of connection. Since there wasn’t much going on these days, it wouldn’t hurt to show a little concern.

Cassel frowned slightly as he looked at Lake, "I remember you saying you really liked daughters."

Lake’s expression was blank, "So?"

Cassel shrugged, "I think George’s suggestion is quite good. That way, the three of us could even take them on trips or something."

George nodded, "That’s a great idea."

Lake rolled his eyes, "Heh, you guys just want me to be your playmate. Dream on. Even if I wanted to adopt, the child protective services wouldn’t agree. I’m single, remember?"

Cassel looked at George curiously, "Can’t single people adopt?"

George shook his head, "I’ve never heard of that rule. Besides, I looked up Skye’s file later. Her parents are both gone. If you want to adopt, you just need the city hall’s stamp."

Lake blinked, "Adoption is that simple?"

This wasn’t right.

Lake remembered when he was five years old and Karen and Thaddeus brought him home, the paperwork alone took almost half a month.

WHY?

Lake blinked.

George said, "Of course, she doesn’t need her biological parents’ signatures, so it’s very simple. And you also said you had a connection with that little girl, didn’t you?"

Lake raised an eyebrow.

Adopt Skye?

From now on, I’d be the adoptive father of someone who could break the Earth’s Demon King?

Interesting.

But…

After thinking about it, Lake smiled and shook his head, "Still, let’s forget it. I need a housekeeping company just to handle my home’s cleaning. Adopting a child, let’s just forget it."

If Lake wasn’t rich, he doubted he could even manage his own hygiene.

And…

Adoption costs money.

Plus, a single man adopting a little loli would lead to a lot of gossip.

Better to forget it.

Lake weighed his options and decisively abandoned the thought.

George and Cassel exchanged a look. Seeing that Lake seemed to have made up his mind, they didn’t say anything more.

Just then.

Ring, ring.

Ring, ring.

Suddenly, in the bar, one phone started ringing after another.

Even…

George’s phone rang.