A sleek black hover limousine glided to a stop before a magnificent building, its facade adorned with gold accents. A massive golden sign proclaimed it the Golden Palace. Before Alastor could even think about exiting, the chauffeur hurried out, opened the rear door, and stood attentively.
This was yet another gesture Alastor found unfamiliar. He couldn't comprehend how the wealthy tolerated this constant pampering. The constant presence of others felt suffocating, and the inability to perform even the simplest tasks, like opening a car door, grated on his nerves. Pushing these thoughts aside with a sigh, Alastor stepped out of the limousine. The chauffeur promptly returned to the vehicle and drove away.
Alastor watched the limousine depart as he approached the entrance of the Golden Palace. A restaurant employee greeted him and escorted him to his reserved table on the first floor.
