Shard had just stepped into the hall when someone grabbed his wrist.
The tall, thin middle-aged man in black leather shoes was almost face to face with Shard on his side, Mr. Cyndia Mark, Vice President of the Prophet's Society Tobesk Branch, but it really gave Shard a fright.
"Mr. Hamilton, you've finally arrived."
Mr. Mark's voice was hoarse today.
"Am I late?"
Shard asked hesitantly.
Mr. Mark released his hand, giving Shard the opportunity to reach for his pocket watch, but it was only nine-thirty in the morning.
"You are not late, it's me who is too early."
"Mr. Mark, what time have you been waiting here for me?"
Shard could imagine the middle-aged gentleman pacing back and forth in front of the society's door waiting for him.
"Nine o'clock. Mr. Hamilton, you don't understand how important today is for me."
