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Novel Catalog
Chapter 187
The restaurant bustled with a variety of people—university students, migrant workers from nearby construction sites, and neatly dressed white-collar workers, each immersed in their own world. The smell of rich food hung in the air, mingling with the clinking of cutlery and the hum of conversation.
In front of the counter stood a bearded man, a toothpick dangling from his mouth as he collected bills. His left hand moved deftly to receive the money, his fingers working quickly as he interacted with the customers.
Jupiter, quiet as always, rummaged through his wallet and pulled out a photo. “This is Wesley in his 20s,” he said, handing it to Nash.
Nash took the photo. The young man in the picture wore a pressed military uniform, his sharp features and fierce expression giving him a determined air. His eyes—cold and resolute—spoke of someone who had faced the harshest realities of life.
Nash glanced over at the bearded man behind the counter. The contrast was stark. The man had a pudgy face, disheveled appearance, and dull eyes that seemed to be lost in thought.
Angelica, unable to resist the delicious smells wafting from the kitchen, couldn’t help but notice how good everyone seemed to be eating. Her stomach rumbled, and a blush of embarrassment spread across her cheeks.
Smiling, Nash turned to her. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you? Let me treat you to a meal. The food here’s pretty good.”
Angelica hesitated, looking at the simple, unpretentious restaurant. It was hard to believe that someone like Nash would choose such a place for a meal. The Lewises had hundreds of millions in assets, and Nash himself was well-connected with several famous people. This small restaurant seemed far below his usual standards.
Nash led the two of them inside, and the bearded man quickly approached them with the menu. He tossed it onto the table, along with a pencil and some paper for them to write down their orders. Though the service was less than stellar, none of them minded.
Jupiter, however, was not paying attention to the menu. His eyes were fixed on the bearded man, studying him carefully. It was as if he sensed something familiar about the man.
The bearded man noticed Jupiter’s gaze and, with a scowl, turned to him. “What are you looking at? Haven’t you seen a guy with a beard before?”
His voice was rough, hoarse from years of smoking.
Jupiter smiled faintly, his tone casual. “It’s nothing. You just look like an old friend of mine.”
The bearded man snorted, clearly unimpressed. “Hurry up and order. Don’t waste my time.”
Angelica, still feeling the awkwardness of the situation, pushed the menu toward Nash. “Mr. Calcraft, please order.”
Nash smiled at her, shaking his head. “I’ve already eaten. You go ahead.”
Reluctantly, Angelica handed the menu to Jupiter, who glanced at it before placing their order. “Two portions of pasta,” he said simply.
Nash raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing at his lips. “Trying to go easy on my wallet?”
Jupiter laughed. “No, it’s just that I haven’t had pasta in a while, and I’m in the mood for it.”
As they made small talk, Nash’s eyes wandered back to the bearded man. He couldn’t help but notice the small defect in the man’s left ear, the same missing piece he had seen in Wesley’s photo. It was subtle, but unmistakable.
Nash’s expression hardened, and he asked casually, “I used to come here for dinner. Why haven’t I seen you before?”
The bearded man answered with indifference. “I went back to my country some time ago. I just came back a few days ago.”
Nash studied him closely. The man’s knuckles were calloused, worn from hard work, perhaps from using a gun. It could have been from anything, but Nash’s instincts told him it was more than just coincidence.
Nash pushed forward with his questions. “Do you know the Sky Blade Group?”
The bearded man’s eyes hardened, his impatience clear. “Are you here for dinner, or what?”
Nash smiled lightly, sensing that he was treading into dangerous territory. “I was just asking.”
The bearded man took a deep breath, then shook his head dismissively. “I don’t know them.”
The tension in the air seemed to thicken, but Nash pressed on, his voice calm. “Do you know Grayson?”
At the mention of the name, the bearded man’s movements faltered slightly. There was a brief, sharp glint in his eyes, but it was gone before anyone else could notice.
But Nash noticed. He could feel the change—the slight spike in the man’s heart rate, the barely perceptible shift in his breathing. He had struck a nerve.
Angelica, sensing the subtle shift in the room, glanced at Nash with quiet curiosity. She wasn’t sure if she was being paranoid, but the atmosphere in the small restaurant felt increasingly charged.
Nash leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he watched the bearded man. It was clear now. They were getting closer to uncovering the truth, and the man’s reaction to the name “Grayson” was no coincidence.