In the office, there was a woman dressed simply in a T-shirt and jeans, sitting on a chair, clutching the coat draped over her.
Yumi Stewart paused on that coat for two seconds, then turned to ask the staff next to her, "How should I resolve this matter?"
"We've already done our work, it's up to the other party to resolve privately."
Yumi Stewart nodded, "How much money?"
Staff: "Fifty thousand."
"Alright. Can I take the person now?"
"Once the process is completed, of course you can."
Yumi Stewart nodded again, turned, and walked out of the office.
The staff was surprised, glancing at colleagues, "Is she not even asking what happened?"
"Who knows?"
Jackson Russo emerged, wearing only a badly wrinkled black shirt, having been drunk all night, now suffering from a headache, walking somewhat unsteadily, with a weary look on his face.
Seeing Yumi resting against the car door at the entrance, he walked over.
The smell of alcohol lingering, mixed with smoke and perfume.
