"Give me another copy of Abigail Green's information."
After taking a shower, Brandon Piers' inner fire hadn't completely extinguished. With his half-wet short hair, his eyes were full of agitation.
Pullan glanced at his master and felt it was inexplicable. Miss Abigail's information was just that—ordinary, with nothing particularly noteworthy. Was it necessary for his master to look at it over and over again?
Despite his inner Tsukkomi, Pullan obediently handed over the information.
Three pages of paper were neatly stapled together.
Brandon accepted it and looked through it several times. His gaze finally settled on the photo of a girl with blunt bangs and black-rimmed glasses, so plain that there was no memorable point.
Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't even bother to spare her a glance. Yet, he had such a deep entanglement with her.
