Bro, what! He has a Quintillion?

"Why did you kill him?"

The lad couldn't raise his head. It felt like he was under a sort of spell. As though his neck would snap if he attempted to put up his head.

They were back in the hotel room where Alves was treated. But it felt like a strange place at that moment.

The lad kept the stare at the cold floor. He didn't even bat an eye. There seemed to be a lot going through his mind.

It felt like his head would explode from the multitude of thoughts building up at the depth of his consciousness. And he was making efforts to sort as many as possible out.

"Leave me be."

Alves called out of nowhere. The lad who acted as though he was disinterested all along picked his head as though he had been waiting to do that all his life.

His eyes were super active, and his face fell. Alves took a glance at the lad, then looked away at once.

The lad who had been addressed, though made meaning of it, yet was reluctant to act on it. Perhaps because of the urgency of the order or because he never could have imagined