With the training session completed, Don felt the burn in his muscles and the satisfaction of testing himself in a more controlled environment.
He was about to suggest to Miss Claire that they could leave when suddenly, the door to the training room slid open with a mechanical **whirr**. Two figures stepped in—a very tall man with neatly combed blonde hair, wearing a tailored suit, and beside him, a younger man who looked like a younger version of the older, though less polished. The younger man was around Don's height and his expression was one of disdain.
The tall man, with a stern expression, scanned the room and immediately frowned upon seeing Don. "Sam," he called out, his voice echoing across the room, "didn't I instruct you to ensure no one was present when my son was scheduled to train?"
Sam, the old man who had overseen Don's training, looked visibly flustered. "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Barclay," he stammered. "I didn't know—"
