🦅Sam: He's Lion, the design director.

Lion was about thirty years old and had a cast on his arm. His hair was gray, like the iris of his eyes. His beard was neatly trimmed, like a drawing. His well-trained muscles made him look strong, but his body, covered in marks and blemishes, gave a different impression. He was resting in one of the rooms made of wooden planks, on a mattress on the floor, having just woken up from a dream he regained after the shouting stopped.

🐲Atami: What?

⚜️Lion: I'm the one who makes the suits, and I can see you need it. He inspected his outfit from top to toe.

🐲Atami: Oh, okay... You could have put more effort into mine.

⚜️Lion: And this is why I don't get paid enough.

The newly met man kept his shoes neat and tidy, but his socks had a few holes in them. He seemed to be collecting rock sheets and stones piled up in a corner, their destination unclear.

🦅Sam: Don't complain, you charge what I get for each suit in ten "deliveries."

⚜️Lion: I don't make suits every day, and they last, at least the rest of the teams' suits outside of L2 do. I also have to work on the street to make ends meet.

Lion looked at the new girl after wiping away his sleep.