"I'm doomed," Lyle's voice carried a note of desperation, and the chill in his words indeed had a whiff of the deathly aura of the Liches.
Inside the room, Ralph had just put down a slip of paper, a note that absolutely should not have appeared in an appointment document.
Lyle watched as his uncle pinched the bridge of his nose, his lips moving slightly, muttering a word which, due to the distance, Lyle couldn't catch clearly.
Perhaps it was Lyle's name.
Perhaps it was the time of Lyle's demise.
Lyle had already planned out his upcoming itinerary, immersing himself in Andrey's research and tedious studies, determined not to be the frequently truant bad student he once was.
This time Echel really got me into trouble.
"No matter how you put it, you guys went too far, the person involved definitely won't like it."
"Is that so?" Echel clapped Lyle on the shoulder, "I think she looked quite happy."
She...
Lyle shifted his gaze away from Ralph...
