Gerard Hans.
Hans Port.
Jason took a breath, and in an instant, he understood why the chief of public security at Hans Port was so respectfully deferential to him, his cousin.
Because...
All of Hans Port should belong to his cousin.
Or rather, his cousin owned a significant part of Hans Port.
Looking again at those followers, Jason's perception, more than triple that of an ordinary person, told him that these attendants were just as formidable as the 'Dark Guardians' he had seen in Taor.
Whereas Dennise seemed completely oblivious to these details.
She was merely responding to Gerard.
"Hello, I'm Dennise."
"I'm very pleased to be attending your wedding."
"Just calling me Dennise is fine."
After speaking, she flashed a vibrant smile.
Not a hint of stage fright, nor any embarrassment.
What fear or stranger anxiety could there be in a girl as daft as Dennise, akin to a Siberian Husky?
