
“Where to?” marco asked as he watched Jose rise from a seat.
“Ke room,” said Jose, unaware that his uncle was paying attention. He was too busy thinking.
“After sleepy?” Marco smiled in anguish. “Eat him I told you to sleep. next time obey the words of an older person.”
Both of Jose's eyebrows curved inwards. “Such provocation doesn't work for me anymore" he said. "I'm just gonna get a pen."
“Here is the pen.” Marco moved his chin, pointing at the corner of the table where the tube-shaped pen case was placed.
Jose doesn't want to write anything anymore. He threw his body onto the sofa just as the door was knocked from the outside.
“Log in,” said Marco again, still with his usual calm style.
Jose turned his body, turning his head towards the door enthusiastically. He hoped the waiter would bring news of the intruder. Could Gerald have found it? But when the door was finally opened, only Anne appeared. The waiter brought a push-table that contained snacks as well as hot drinks for them.
“Please, Sir,” Anne said while serving food and drinks on the table.
The girl had red hair with one braid that was woven in an ancient style. Jose watched her closely, seeing that Anne's hand was trembling.
“Why are your hands shaking?” jose asked, not not not noticing that Marco raised his face and looked at him sharply.
Anne lowered her head and took one step back, saying a very polite apology up to three times. Jose hurriedly waved to tell her to be quiet, he let Anne walk out of the room with clumsy steps. Not the apology he wanted. Jose just wants to chat with other people, whoever he's from isn't his cynical uncle.
“Why did you reprimand him?” ask Marco. “Is he spilling coffee or how?”
“Revealing?” Jose frowned. “I don't reprimand. I was just asking why his hands were shaking.”
“No need to show attention to the waiter," Marco said. "They are hired to serve us, if you show more than that, they will be misbehaved and nervous.”
"Humans have a grouping. Each human must act according to the portion that has been determined by the group box. The red-haired girl just now was a waitress, you master. Higgins is sais, you're mister. You are the son of this family. Don't forget that.”
“In fact the status and name do not change anything. There are dignified girls who live in slums and there are many upper-class people who are full of deceit,” Jose quipped.
Marco smiled. “In the end, who can get everything? That slum girl?”
Jose turned the cup over the placemat, making a faint chafing sound in the silent room. How could he argue with Sir William at the Discussion Hall? Even in his uncle's study, he could not defend his opinion.
As a last-ditch effort to not lose, Jose simply took a breath and said in his quietest voice possible, “Not all things can be measured by money and status.”
“Of course not,” Marco laughs. "But those two things determine the fate of many."
Before Jose found a gap to argue again, the door was knocked from the outside. He had just opened his mouth to let him in, but the door had already been opened first with a loud jolt inside. Marco turned around in wonder.
This is clearly an unforgivable act. The Argent family highly upholds manners, especially Marco. Opening the door before being invited could have made a waiter immediately fired—if the one who appeared in was not face that stiff.
Jack was in the doorway with a pale look. His brown skin even turned as pale as milk. His black hair was messy and there was a bit of dirt mixed with sweat on the temple.
“Master, we found him,” he said with a stingy breath, looking scared. “He fought and attacked some workers. Gerald told me to come report here. She's really wild!”
“Mana?” Jose stood up when he heard Jack's first sentence. His heart was beating with enthusiasm. “What does it look like? She's an animal or a human?”
Jack just opened his mouth to answer when Marco cut in his usual cold voice, “Did the creature get caught?”
Jack moved his eyes agitatedly. There was something in Marco's tone of voice that made him intimidated. The grip of his left hand on his right shoulder tightened.