Audrick walked over, looked around, didn't spot today's candidate, pulled out a chair and sat down, asking Alfred with confusion.
"Where's Nathalie? I haven't seen her."
Alfred had just heated a cup of milk and brought it over. Hearing this, he glanced with a calm demeanor, "I don't know either. I haven't seen Ms. Quinlan. She must still be sleeping."
"Still sleeping?" Audrick became unsettled, the bun he'd sneakily taken fell down in surprise. He lost his appetite and glanced at his watch, then turned to the man sitting on the sofa with his legs crossed, playing with his phone. "Amadeus, what time is the exam?"
Amadeus was responding to messages about The Ninth Institute. Having just finished, he heard Audrick's anxious voice, lifted his eyelids slightly, his thin lips pursed, appearing to be in a good mood, "Eight thirty."
"Eight thirty…" Audrick frowned upon checking the time.
With a face as sour as a bitter gourd, he said, "It's seven thirty now…"