"Alright, we get it, the big guy knows. You walked her home and didn't want to leave; didn't manage to win her over, huh?"
Didn't win her over?
Arnold Simmons chuckled quietly to himself.
He hadn't even started pursuing her yet.
The sky was growing dark, streetlights flickering on, with cars rushing by and pedestrians hurrying along.
Neon lights blinked, casting the silhouette of the young man.
He lowered his head, looking at the contact information he had just obtained in his phone, feeling somewhat annoyed as he turned it off.
Just then, Francis Evans called him, dropping the name of an internet cafe and urging him to hurry over to help out since they were losing the game.
"Got it, I'll be there immediately."
Arnold Simmons hung up the phone, glanced back at the residential complex, then lowered the brim of his cap and crossed the road.
Perhaps it was just his imagination running wild; she might have no interest in him at all.
...
Hannah returned home.
