Ririko clung to her last shred of patience. "If you won't show yourself, I'm leaving."
The robot glided up to her and said in a coaxing tone, "Don't be mad. I can mix you a drink. I'm pretty good at it."
Ririko leaned toward its cylindrical head:
"You wouldn't let Alfred come up, so obviously you wanted to talk to me alone. Now you're pretending to have social anxiety. Are you some pervert watching me from somewhere?"
She looked around the hall, her slightly upturned eyes scrutinizing anything suspicious.
The robot fell silent for a moment, then quietly glided away.
The hall was silent for a few seconds.
A tall, middle-aged man emerged from the corridor.
He looked to be in his thirties and wore a casual gray suit. His hair had a slightly damp wave to it, as though he had just styled it with wax.
He walked up to Ririko with both hands in his trouser pockets, retaining a sly air as he tried to act composed despite being caught out:
"Sorry... Miss Ririko. I just wanted to test that robot's capabilities."
Ririko tilted her head and glanced at him. "To see whether it could annoy me into leaving?"
Philip gave a dry chuckle and sat on a nearby sofa. "To see whether it could charm women. Apparently, it still needs an upgrade."
Before long, the robot returned carrying two ice-cold fruit drinks and served them to the pair.
Ririko leaned back on the sofa, crossed her legs, and studied Philip.
He did bear some resemblance to Martha, especially in the refined contours of his eyes and brows. But he had the air of a pampered playboy who never had to worry about his next meal, and even his posture was exceptionally relaxed.
She watched him with her