Chapter 430
Chapter 430:
He arrived at the door of one of the villas and stood in front of the screen before pressing the doorbell. Moments later, the door opened with a gentle click.
The villa’s expansive living room was stunning, bathed in the bright glow from the crystal chandelier, its light reflecting off the polished floors. Gifford could see his image on the surface.
Although he had become accustomed to visiting this place each week, something about it still made Gifford feel like he had stepped into an empty showroom. The coldness of the atmosphere sent a chill straight to his core. It was a house that lacked warmth. The lavish furnishings seemed to stand as lifeless symbols, spreading an unsettling, sterile vibe throughout the space. He grabbed a pair of slippers from the shoe cabinet, slipped them on, and made his way upstairs in silence.
At the end of the second floor, he paused in front of a door, lifting his hand to knock.
The door creaked open moments later, revealing a desk with a sleek, ultra-thin large-screen computer sitting atop it.
Gifford walked in, set his backpack down, and took a seat in the chair, powering on the computer.
As he looked up, his gaze was drawn to a massive screen that split the room in two.
Behind the screen, a sense of mystery lingered. The dim light that filtered through offered little, but Gifford could tell that the space beyond was shrouded in near-complete darkness.
He began, “We’re going to…”
“Mr. Ruiz, I have a test paper.” The girl’s voice echoed from behind the screen. It was sweet and clear, yet underneath it lay a quiet, almost imperceptible hint of exhaustion.
The moment Gifford heard her voice, he noticed the fatigue that lingered in it. At first, he assumed it was simply a result of her lack of rest, but after six months, it never seemed to change.
He began to wonder if the weariness ran deeper than just physical tiredness. If it weren’t for the brightness in her tone, Gifford might have struggled to imagine the weight of the sadness she carried.
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“Alright, go ahead and work on the test paper,” Gifford said gently. “I’ll take a look at it once you’re finished.”
The girl responded with a gentle, “Mm,” and the quiet scratching of a pen on paper filled the space between them.
Gifford opened the lesson plan he had prepared for the day, leaned back in his chair, and allowed his thoughts to wander.
Out of nowhere, a news alert flashed in the bottom right corner of his screen. Gifford instinctively reached for the mouse to close it, but something caught his eye as he read the headline.
“Esaham University student Fernanda’s vote manipulation was actually the organizer’s idea. Can events run by such organizers be trusted? What kind of company is Prestige Fashion Group?”
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