Although the level of comfort was questionable, the outfit was unexpectedly warm—even in the dead of winter, it caused sweat to bead on his back.
Guided by the attendant, he arrived at the luxurious suite on the sixth floor of the hotel and finally saw the gentleman who had introduced him to this strange world again.
At this moment, the gentleman was sitting quietly at a triangular round wooden table, engrossed in a book. The cloaked, mysterious guard was still standing close by, never leaving his side, like a shadow.
Punk glanced around quietly, surprised to find that the furniture had all been moved out.
Apart from the immovable fireplace and floor, the room had only a walnut table and chairs, so stark it felt barely livable.
Time ticked away, but the lord said nothing, seemingly determined to train him in the art of silence.
Just as Punk was about to lose his patience, the esteemed Mr. Colin finally spoke.
"Do you have a wife or children?"
