In the governor's residence…
Jarvis, the middle-aged gentleman, paused in his tracks. He slowly lifted his gaze toward the door before him, hearing something shatter inside.
A shallow breath escaped him before he knocked.
Three knocks echoed through the room. He waited for a response — which he didn't get — before reaching for the knob. As soon as Jarvis opened the door, his steps halted.
Inside stood a short, fat man with a bulging belly barely held in by the buttons of his blouse. His sleeves were rolled up to his thick elbows, and his clothes were smeared with patches of blood as he held a golf club in one hand.
The man lying bloodied on the carpet told the rest of the story.
"Jarvis," the governor huffed, his voice coarse and strained. "Why did you come back empty-handed?"
Jarvis remained unfazed despite the fury burning in the governor's eyes. "Governor, our men are already hunting down every rat that came in here."
