"Your order has arrived. I hope you enjoy your meal. If there's any problem, give me a call."
He mounted his little electric scooter and departed at a normal speed—after a while, he had grown accustomed to it.
He didn't care whom he delivered to. Last time, it seemed like he saw an owl, and then a child dressed in ancient attire, with pale, bluish skin. He could act as if he hadn't seen anything.
As long as the money was real, he would see nothing, hear nothing, and say nothing, strictly adhering to his professional ethics.
The day before yesterday, he delivered to a customer who was scantily clad, with seductive eyes, clearly trying to tempt him. He recited the professional code in his mind, turned around, and walked away, never involving himself with such trouble.
He left the villa area and checked the money; even the serial numbers were consecutive with the last delivery. So, there was definitely no problem.
