Marcell had a fever. Not because of anything, but the man was tired. After being shot Marcell did not take a break or rest because he was preparing for the opening of his cake shop. This was Marcell's first time owning a business, so he wanted the best for his business. What about the system in his body?For about 7 hours. The system did not make any changes to the fever in Marcell's body. Unlike the wound on the forehead or the gunshot wound on the man's chest. It seems that the system cannot overcome the fever in Marcell's body. But who knows, still don't know if it will. "You're pushing yourself too hard," Mike said after escorting Alan to the front door. Arjuna had not been able to visit because he was so busy preparing ingredients for tomorrow morning's cake production.Marcell, who had a faint glimpse of him, did not reply to Mike's words. Now Mike cleaned up Marcell's medicines on the table. Tidying up a little mess in Marcell's room, and then left Marcell's room. Letting h

The seminar lasted for four hours. Miu was very enthusiastic at the beginning, but as soon as Marcell turned her head the girl had closed her eyes with regular breathing. I don't know where the thought came from, Marcell wanted to know the girl's personality. In a matter of 5 seconds a green transparent screen appeared. Hwang Miu 19 years old Korean, now a British citizen. - First semester student at Oxford. - Independent. - A girl who is strong and true to herself. - The family breadwinner. - Smart, and always looking for new opportunities. Everything Marcell wanted to know just appeared. After reading, the transparent screen immediately disappeared. "Hey, wake up. The seminar is over." Marcell tapped Miu on the shoulder. Miu moaned her eyes blinking slowly open. Several people were already walking out of the building. "It's over?" asked Miu in confusion. "Yes, you slept very well." Marcell got up from the chair. Miu hurriedly gathered her consciousness and followed

Marcell stopped by the hotel after picking up his movement papers. He took off his shoes and coat. The air in New Haven was getting cold. It would soon be winter. Marcell's feet stepped onto the bed and lay down. He would relax for a while before cleaning up. Marcell was just stopping by, not staying overnight. While waiting for his flight back to Oxford, Marcell had rented a one-night hotel room that he would only stay in for a few hours. There was no one Marcell wanted to meet, but one person came to mind. Aunt Ruth. Where was she now? Marcell wasn't yet that great of a person to have an assistant who could access where missing people were. Marcell's hand scrolled through his cell phone searching the internet for the Hermes system. Isn't that what's written on the transparent screen? But nothing, what appears are bags, shoes, and other products from a brand. Does this have anything to do with it? Of course not. Hermes must have another meaning and is not made that clear to be

Marcell arrived at Cottesloe and Sunnymead parks at 10am, where the festival was in full swing. Marcell's eyes took in every booth. It turned out that Puffy Muffy was not the only booth selling cakes, there were two others that he felt might be Puffy Muffy's rivals."Marcell!" the shout that Marcell recognized as Mike's voice echoed. Making him turn his head and look for the source of the voice. "Hey!" Mike shouted again which immediately made Marcell's sight catch his presence. Marcell's feet stepped towards him. "Hey how is it?" asked Marcell asking for sales at the Puffy Muffy booth. I don't know whose idea it was, but it looked beautifully decorated in a combination of blue colors like in the store."I'm sorry, not many people know about Puffy Muffy yet so they mostly visit other booths." Alan lifted his chin towards a pink cake booth called Love Cake. Marcell followed the direction where Alan's eyes were looking. Indeed, there seemed to be more visitors. At the moment, there w

Marcell arrived at London's Shangri-La The Shard hotel 15 minutes before the event began. As a nouveau riche, Marcell was still gaping at the sight of such a prestigious event. I don't know what dream he had to get an invitation to a five-star hotel birthday in the city center. This time he was not alone, there was Alan who accompanied him to this event. Marcell was still stiff talking to important people. For this reason, Alan, who was older than him and had work experience meeting with many clients for a long time, felt he could help Marcell. "They must be wondering which company you own. Or are you the son of a conglomerate." Alan whispered, telling the situation as the invited guests looked at Marcell in confusion. Alan himself walked a little behind Marcell making them think that Alan was his personal assistant. "Do you think so?" asked Marcell to confirm. He didn't really realize that the stares of some of the invited guests meant what Alan said. Marcell thought they wer