Within a partitioned room.
On the couch, a handsome, black-haired, middle-aged man held a small black notebook, examining it intently. Hearing the commotion, he didn't lift his head, allowing Dean to simply stand at the door.
Seeing this, Dean walked into the room, closed the door, sat down opposite the man, crossed his legs, pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and quietly puffed away without a word.
The cigarette burned past halfway.
The black-haired middle-aged man finally put down the small black notebook, frowned, and said, "You're very bold. I don't like the smell of smoke!"
Dean flicked the ash, chuckled, and said, "Mr. Saul Aston, my apologies. I'm not fond of cigars. Besides, are you struggling with family matters?"
"Oh?"
