In the dilapidated office, the man's face was cold and stern, with a pair of gold-rimmed glasses on his nose. Underneath the lenses, his slender phoenix eyes carried an unapproachable chill.
The aura surrounding him was completely out of place in this old room. Cold and detached, aloof and indifferent, he was stunning at first sight.
His full face wasn't captured on camera, but even just his silhouette made the live chat viewers scream for more.
Blake Fuller put the documents in his hands into the bookcase, walked to his desk, and sat down on a wooden chair.
"Who needs medical treatment?" His eyebrows were cool and distant, with a fleeting trace of concern in his eyes.
"Thank you, Doctor."
Chester Quinn sat down in front of the desk, placing his injured hand on the table.
There was a terrible mark in the palm of his hand, with bright red blood flowing.
"Wait a moment."
Blake got up, picked up a first aid kit from the side, and took out some disinfection tools.
