Pinnacle Pavilion Restaurant
The moment Ambrose arrived in front of the restaurant, he let out a short breath. The place was alive tonight. A few fancy cars were parked across the street, and a security guard was even standing at the entrance.
"Is this a restaurant or a fucking mafia bar?" He mumbled to himself, adjusting his outfit.
He donned a form-fitting white turtleneck and a pair of black pants to complement his outfit. A pretty silver chain sat around his neck, matched with a wristwatch that offered no value beyond its fancy appearance.
[S-Rank Esper energy detected.]
Huh… so Viktor was already inside. Of course, he was. He made the reservation anyway.
Ambrose rubbed the back of his head nervously, taking in one final breath. As he approached the restaurant door, the security guard inclined his head to him. Then he surprisingly smiled.
