Amon got into the ceremonial car Inuyama He had prepared. Completely unlike the rough, hard-edged Executive Department style on Minamoto Chisaki's side, this was an extended luxury business car, spacious inside and decorated with soft warm lighting and leather seats, exuding an understated yet extravagant air.
He sat alone in the broad rear seat, without a single attendant. On either side of him sat two meticulously dressed young women.
On the left was Setsuko, fresh-faced and poised, her hair tied in a neat high ponytail, her figure tall and well-proportioned. On the right was Mimi, dressed in lavish, elaborate clothes, with richly beautiful features.
Having left that mountain-like cruiser behind—and with Amon apparently unaccustomed to pipes, coughing badly after getting choked by the smoke—the suffocating majesty brought by those Five Star Generals had faded considerably.
Inuyama He cast aside those unbearable memories of the past, and his expression relaxed. The young women, too, read the room and no longer regarded Amon as some lofty figure, but as a handsome young man.
They naturally began to show the coquettish charm of their age, occasionally stealing glances at the young general who had come alone. A faint, almost imperceptible springtime allure spread through their fluttering gazes.
"Mr. He, please allow me to address you this way." Inuyama He spoke, his tone more familiar than before.
"Please do. A name is merely a designation. You can call me He Xiaomeng, or Amon." Amon gently stroked the smooth rim of his cup, his gaze resting on the faintly rippling sake.
"Mr. He is truly young and accomplished." Inuyama He's tone held precisely the right amount of flattery, yet it went beyond mere courtesy. "At such an age, you have already reached heights that many people could never attain even in an entire lifetime."
Amon