Bad People

Hector becomes increasingly alarmed. His shoulders pushed Horat's hand away, then shook his head. Secretly he hoped that this time the news that Horat was delivering would not be trivial news like the royal gardener had changed his lawn mower.

"I... I have some news, and I guarantee it will be interesting for you."

Hector exhaled slowly. "You've been saying that since yesterday. But the news you're telling isn't important. All the news you're giving is trash."

Horat smirked. "I make sure this trash from me is trash that you will keep carefully."

Switching from what he was doing—because Hektor was tired of hearing news from Horat, Hektor looked back at Horat. Even though there was doubt, curiosity couldn't be avoided from the look in his eyes.

"It's about Alex," Harot's voice was a whisper.

Hektor's eyes widened in interest. Just briefly, less than five seconds, Hektor's position was directly facing Harot.

"Alex? What new
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