"Mr. Hughes?"
The tailor called out to Zion, but Zion was still focused on Suga, who kept shaking his head and repeating, "Just one! Just make one."
Zion, completely unfazed, replied, "I'm paying, so I'll decide how many to buy. Ah, you know what? Let's make it five! Yes, sir—uh, what's your name?" He glanced at the name tag on the man's suit and continued, "Antonio, five suits for him."
The tailor nodded. Of course, he would follow the customer's request—especially when that customer was Zion Hughes. This was actually the first time he had seen Zion talk this much. Every time the Hughes family came in, the young man barely spoke, only saying what was necessary. From what he had heard, Mrs. Hughes' youngest son was rumored to be dangerous—a genius, according to some. But seeing him interact with his partner, the tailor mentally nodded in understanding. The young man seemed normal, just like any other guy his age. Rumors tended to exaggerate things.
