Students differ greatly from one another.
For instance, Harlen Johnson has the vibe of being pretentious and immature, a facade covering emptiness.
But the person in front of me—
Steady, elegant, gentle, carries the shell of a "good student," but whether inside he's clean and transparent or dirty and despicable is unknown.
However, no matter how low-key such a person is, they're not to be underestimated anywhere.
"Oliver."
The young man walked over, with a gentle smile, nodding slightly at Oliver Scott.
Oliver Scott's expression shifted slightly but then arched an eyebrow and smiled breezily.
He called out, "Third Brother."
Third Brother?
Marcus Shaw furrowed his brow, his gaze lingering on the young man with displeasure.
At that moment, the young man suddenly looked over, met Marcus Shaw's eyes briefly, and then calmly looked away.
From that glance, Marcus Shaw vaguely sensed some disdain, contempt. There was even a clear sense—the other party knew him.
