"I see." The middle-aged man's eyes twitched a bit. "So you're the piece of shit who got an executive position by getting in the good graces of the Guild Master."
Bruh.
"So it would seem." I shrugged.
I mean, as unfortunate as it is, he's not exactly wrong about that.
Usually, the position of an executive is given to a trusted comrade who has proven his abilities through hard work.
However, in my case, Azell just served the position to me, a suicidal child he met for the first time, on a silver platter just because he pitied me (probably, unless he has a nefarious goal for keeping me, a second Samur, around).
Anyway, it seemed my nonchalant response had irritated the middle-aged man even further.
"Ha, so you do realise what you have done." He scoffed.
"I'm known for my ability to objectively view a situation." I smiled.
