"Leave it to Wester, Special Assistants are there to be worked to the bone," Oliver Hilton chuckled.
Just as Wester entered the room and heard this, his face turned dark.
"Mr. Hilton, please try to accumulate some verbal karma. Otherwise, if you end up alone for life, don't blame me for not warning you."
"Eh? Aren't Special Assistants supposed to slave away and risk their lives for their boss?"
"Then just say slaving away and risking their lives! 'Playing with death' it's like you're raping someone's ears."
"Cough cough..." Grant Greenwood cleared his throat, reminding Oliver Hilton of the purpose of their visit.
Only then did Oliver Hilton remember the reason for their visit, "Kevin, it's okay if we don't go horseback riding; let's go play some ball instead. We need to win back the game we lost last time and strive to move next door to each other soon!"
Kevin Cliff, who was looking down at some data, suddenly threw several documents out of his drawer, "Take them and get out."
