"Amos... do you think what I'm saying is correct?"
Casio, seated on the red chair at the head of the room, revealed a faint smile. He lifted his head, his flat, waveless eyes gazing at the tightly closed doors of the conference hall.
With a clank, the iron door was pushed open from the outside, and sunshine poured in. An aged silhouette dressed in a black and white steward's uniform walked in.
Amos, whose arrival at the guild hall had gone unnoticed, clicked his leather shoes on the marble ground. He raised his right hand, straightening the white down gloves on his left, yet his eyes were tightly fixed on Casio.
"Tap tap tap... tap tap tap..."
Amos gradually approached, first casting a wary glance at the thirteen secret manuals on the conference table, radiating twisted magic power, and then somberly said to Casio, "Having not seen you for a few days, you seem to have grown stronger..."
"I can't completely fathom you anymore. Casio..."
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