“Young master, our source says Hion had arrived at Grail.” Prothero's bodyguard bowed his head respectfully while staring at the boy, who was currently typing something on his laptop. His straight back turned to the guard.
Prothero stopped typing and raised his head to show a perfectly carved, handsome young face in his fifteenth.
The boy shut his laptop and turned to the guard, his action elegantly screaming morals and training. “When will Dad check my progress?” He asked in a deadpan voice filled with nonchalance.
The guard bowed at Prothero's detached action. He can't help thinking that the boss and young master really look identical.
Unfortunately, the father and son's relationship is estranged, and they don't see eye to eye. “It's next Thursday, young master.” The guard replied respectfully.
