"Young Master Peary!?"
The supervisor was so shocked her mouth hung wide open, and she stared incredulously at the manager.
"Is that Young Master Peary from Capital Town? The... the Young Master Peary?"
No one knew how to describe their feelings. Good heavens, Young Master Peary! That's... Young Master Peary!
"Of course! How many Young Master Pearys are there in this world? All of you, pull yourselves together!"
As he spoke, a black limited-edition Rolls-Royce sped towards them.
"SCREECH—"
The shriek of brakes pierced the sky as the car stopped smoothly, its doors perfectly aligned with the hotel's grand gate.
A suffocating, oppressive aura emanated from the car, causing everyone present to lower their heads and hold their breath.
At this moment, it was as if everyone had forgotten how to breathe. They all stood properly, not daring to move a muscle.
A pair of black, custom-made leather shoes emerged from the car, followed by Maxwell Peary himself.
