Dr. Laurent's office wasn't anything special. Not the kind of room where you'd expect to unravel a mystery or get your brain sorted.
It was small, almost cramped, with a desk jammed into one corner and a couple of mismatched chairs in front of it.
Behind her, a bookshelf sagged under the weight of too many textbooks and binders shoved together without much thought. "Neural Systems and Cognitive Architecture," "Theories of Perception," and at least three copies of some title that included the phrase "Artificial Memory."
Most of the cover designs were so boring Kazuo wondered if she picked them on purpose to scare people off.
The walls were bare except for a corkboard pinned with what looked like diagrams, printed schedules, and a single photo of some fancy building that screamed Paris.
