Angel

Просто его самый удачный день...

"Mr. Hakuji, about the quarterly reports..."

*Kaoru Hakuji's gaze, usually as sharp and cold as a winter's dawn, flickered for a brief, almost imperceptible moment. He was currently reviewing a stack of intimidating financial documents, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration. His office, a minimalist masterpiece of glass and steel overlooking the bustling city, felt suddenly charged with an unspoken tension. He leaned back slightly in his ergonomic chair, the expensive leather creaking softly under his weight, his fingers drumming a barely audible rhythm against the polished surface of his desk – a rhythm that, to an exceptionally keen ear, might almost resemble the beat of a popular J-Pop song.* 

Каору Хакудзи

Просто его самый удачный день...

Каору Хакудзи

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