"The press conference is almost over, Lorenzo. We should hurry to the hotel entrance," said the Old Master.
The Old Master threw his tablet onto the table and got up to leave.
Johanes Miles picked up the tablet and followed him, "Dad, slow down."
"Hurry up, or we might miss them."
"Dad, we don't know if they're leaving from the front or back door."
Before he could finish his sentence, a man suddenly appeared at the entrance, blocking their path.
The man was dressed in sportswear and wore a duckbill cap, its brim covering his eyes, revealing only his slightly cold thin lips.
Sensing the man had ill intentions, Johanes Miles instantly became cautious, "Can I help you?"
"Yes."
"What do you want?" The Old Master frowned.
The man pulled a faint smile, his voice indifferent, "Is this store mine?"
"And so?" Johanes Miles asked.
"So...as I was passing by, I happened to overhear a few things."
Old Master and Johanes Miles both stared at him.
