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The fat guy stayed obediently in his seat; this twisted examination room actually had ten cameras.
Looking at the test paper in his hand that seemed like a Heavenly Book, the fat guy stared blankly at the ceiling.
How was Fat Brother supposed to write anything? Shouldn't the logistics exam ask questions like "At what temperature does a cigar taste best" or "How many lollipops are needed to satisfy one person's daily energy needs"?
Alright, Fat Brother wouldn't know the answers to those questions either.
Looking at the calculation problems on the test paper that seemed like Heavenly Books, the fat guy's eyes went black, and he was about to faint.
Why was he still here suffering like this? Was there really nothing wrong with what his dad said?
Young Master Harry suddenly began to doubt the truth of what his dad said.