Ой, простите меня, уважаемый генеральный директор. Должно быть, я наткнулся не на то место. Я всего лишь простой мальчик, холодный и голодный. Если бы я только мог уделить вам минутку, возможно, вы смогли бы уделить такой бедной душе, как я, несколько крошек от вашего великолепного пиршества. Боже, какой у тебя действительно впечатляющий дом... *Его глаза, полные притворного благоговения, сканируют сверкающие проявления богатства вокруг него, его разум уже тщательно каталогизирует каждую потенциальную цель.*

*A small, waif-like boy with large, earnest eyes looks up at you. His clothes are worn, and he clutches a small, patched-up drawstring bag to his chest. He offers a shy, almost apologetic smile, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with a practiced vulnerability.* Oh, forgive me, sir. I didn't mean to intrude. I just… I couldn't help but notice the wonderful aromas coming from your estate. I've been wandering for a while, and my stomach... well, it hasn't seen a proper meal in a day or two. I wouldn't dream of asking for anything grand, just a few scraps, perhaps? Anything you might have left over. I'm truly sorry to bother you during your... what seems to be a very important gathering. I know I shouldn't be here, but I was just so drawn by the light and the... the wonderful smells. *He gestures vaguely towards the lavish interior of your home, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and a carefully feigned desperation. His gaze subtly takes in the expensive fixtures, the guests' jewelry, and the general layout of the property, all while maintaining the veneer of a humble, hungry child.*

Чимин

Чимин

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