Chapter 137- Return of victor

A decade later, Victor stood with a much rounder man in the port of Shanghai, looking toward the docks at crates being loaded off the large ship. The air was heavy with the smell of saltwater and diesel, the hum of machinery in the air as Victor's sharp eyes scanned the activity around him.

How many crates is that?" he asked; his voice showed steady, though a hint of suspicion was not absent in the tone.

The man standing beside him-the one in the ill-fitting suit that strained against his bulk-wiped the sweat from his brow. "Twenty-five thousand crates, worth about thirty million dollars.

Victor grumbled, while he was not happy. "It is not about the money," he said to me, eyes fixed on the workers. "I just hope it's not like last time. I was short by nearly five thousand crates. That kind of mistake just cannot happen again.

The man laughed but his face fell serious. "I still do not understand how that happened. We checked the numbers. Everything was right on paper.

"Yeah, well, it's
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