The sky was just beginning to dawn.
Whisperer Bar was entering its closing phase.
Those drunken men were unceremoniously thrown out by the scar-faced man commanding several strong men.
In the office, Zhong Shenxiu watched Smith counting the income.
The table was covered with colorful US Dollar bills, as well as various gold pounds and subsidiary coins... enough to dazzle anyone's eyes.
"A total of 572 US Dollars and 36 cents!"
Ten minutes later, Smith looked up and said in an astonished tone, "Since there's no cost for this batch of alcohol, we just need to deduct a trivial amount of wages and the bonus for Notting Hill, the rest is all pure profit!"
"Not bad."
Zhong Shenxiu nodded, holding the bag full of money in his hand, "Is there anything else?"
"We're running low on the wine in the cellar..."
Smith reported a situation.
