In the office adorned by many expensive ornaments, four people could be seen talking. Their expressions didn't reveal much, but from their serious looks, it was evident that the discussion was something that they hadn't much expected.
"This sphere….It is related to "them," isn't it?"
The man sitting on the right side opened his mouth first. On his clothes, an indicator of his name could be seen.
It read – Director Noah Blackthorn.
He was a direct descendant of the Blackthorns, being able to carry the surname in his nameplate. His standing in the family didn't seem to be something low in any case.
His clothes were made of the most expensive fabric. He looked handsome with his lean body as well as his chestnut hair. Yet his green eyes hold a certain coldness underneath, showing that he wasn't someone who should only be judged by his good looks.
"That is what we suspect."