Armin appeared in the Headmaster's spacious, somewhat austere office—not through the door, but simply there, leaning against a mahogany bookshelf laden with ancient, leather-bound tomes.
Hamdal, who had been reviewing reports while a team began the massive clean-up operation in the hallway, looked up, a scowl immediately darkening his features.
"What are you doing here, you womanizer?" Hamdal asked in an annoyed, tired tone.
Armin pushed off the shelf, sauntering forward with hands spread wide in mock offense.
"Come on, man! This is how you treat your best friend, seeing him after such a long time?" he asked, his dissatisfaction clearly feigned and teasing.
"Best friend? Tch! I don't even consider you my friend," Hamdal retorted, clicking his tongue in genuine irritation.
"Hey! You're hurting my feelings here, man," Armin whined.
Hamdal slammed his hand flat on the desk, his voice growing furious with every word.
