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The lunch was sumptuous, slightly less so than at Salah's place but still quite lavish, and the taste was still very good.
After cleaning the guns, I had a good nap at noon. Outside, the temperature was over forty degrees, but inside it was only twenty-two degrees. The hotel's air conditioning was industrial-grade because in the sweltering heat of Baghdad, ordinary household air conditioners were useless, often tripping on their thermal protection.
Since Moussa suddenly came into money, Gao Guang's standard of living jumped dramatically. So far, his life in Baghdad truly felt like a holiday.
By four o'clock, Moussa knocked on the door.
"Mr. Gao, can we go out now?"
Moussa liked to consult before doing anything. To say 'consult' might be a bit of an exaggeration, but whatever he did, he definitely needed Gao Guang's approval first.
"Yes, are we leaving right now? Where to? Is there danger? Should I bring a gun?"