Here's My ID

Soon, Dylan and Alma arrived at Bradley's office together.

Hermia had embarked on learning magic with Jack this year, which meant she could no longer serve as Bradley's assistant. Consequently, Bradley had hired a new assistant. However, as she had just been rescued from having her car repaired, she made a temporary appearance in the office.

Led by Hermia, Dylan and Alma entered Bradley's office.

"Do you want some wine?" Bradley had now modified his hospitality approach. He no longer asked, "Would you like something to drink?" but directly mentioned wine. Evidently, he wanted to avoid strange drink requests like that of one peculiar bastard, who is trying to seduce his daughter.

"No, thank you, sir, we're here on business," said Dylan, who was seated on a single sofa.

"I'd like some," Alma, who occupied the other double sofa, showed no intention of giving Dylan any leeway.

"Very well," Bradley secretly sighed in relief. At least, there was someone who was willing to indulge in a display of his hosting skills.

Bradley picked up the glass of transparent liquid before him with his right hand, preparing to secretly use red edible dye hidden in his hand to turn it red. However, before he could do so, Jack entered without much courtesy.

"I heard there are guests? Why don't we have something else to drink?" Jack pushed the door open and settled on the sofa directly, next to Alma.

Alma's eyes lit up as she gazed at Jack's face. She had just taken a twelve-hour flight to Las Vegas, and the fatigue had not yet caught up with her, especially after seeing Jack. Just as a man's spirit might lift upon seeing a beautiful woman, a woman's spirits can equally be uplifted when encountering a handsome man.

"Why did you come in? Didn't I ask you to leave?" Bradley's face darkened instantly.

"I'm here for a drink," Jack responded with a smile, then greeted Alma and Dylan, "Hello, Officer Alma, Banner... Oh, Agent Dylan, may I ask if you rarely get angry?"

"Angry?" Dylan seemed a bit perplexed. "I... rarely get angry."

"Alright, no need to worry about getting angry. Just don't turn green," Jack said, casually crossing his legs.

Dylan: "..."

"No drinks! Forget it! We don't have the carrot and coriander juice you want to drink!" Bradley interjected.

Bradley couldn't help but think, "Can't you let my magic show be a success?"

"Don't worry, I don't want any other drinks this time," Jack first reassured Bradley. When Bradley looked puzzled, he added, "I'd like a glass of vinegar-flavored black garlic mango juice!"

Everyone: "???"

"Get out of here!" Bradley exclaimed in frustration.

Dylan's tone was firm as he addressed Jack, "Sir, that's it. I am an FBI agent. Since you know our identities, you should also know what we are doing. So, can you leave here and not hinder us from handling the case?"

Jack's response was swift and resolute, "Of course... No."

Dylan narrowed his eyes slightly, pulling out his FBI identification card as he spoke with a veiled threat, "It seems that you want to enter the FBI interrogation room for a while on the pretext of obstructing official business?"

Unfazed, Jack raised an eyebrow and produced an IRS ID, stating, "Or, do you want to put an IRS agent on duty into an interrogation room, and then have your entire personal tax information reviewed?"

The beauty of the magical world was that even when magic was performed openly, most people perceived it as mere illusion. However, this didn't work on magicians who understood the tricks. What set Jack apart was that he utilized storage space, not conventional magic.

Dylan was left utterly shocked. He had assumed the role of an FBI agent who held a strong disdain for magic, so his surprise was genuine. He simply hadn't anticipated Jack's tactics.

But what truly left Dylan bewildered was the authenticity of the IRS ID. It appeared entirely legitimate.

"You do realize that impersonating a public official is also illegal, right?" Dylan, though without any visible flaws in the ID, remained skeptical and decided to test Jack's veracity.

Jack responded calmly, "Or, you can call and check."

Dylan took a moment to consider, then accepted the ID from Jack and stepped out to make a call. He was gearing up for a confrontation with Jack.

Meanwhile, Alma couldn't contain her curiosity and asked Jack, "Are you really from the IRS? What are you doing here? And do you also know Mr. Bradley?"

Jack nodded in affirmation but chose not to address Alma's other questions. Instead, he diverted the conversation, "Do you want something to drink?"

Hermia, who had been observing the unfolding scene, couldn't help but suppress a smile at the unexpected turn of events.

.....

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