Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

Only the sound of the clock’s hands moving echoed through the corridor, accompanied by the somewhat heavy footsteps of someone passing by.

Among the attendants tidying up the corridor, there was no one to stop those violent and unaristocratic footsteps.

It wasn’t because the one making the noise was someone they had to serve.

While it was true that the culprit of the disturbance was their little master, the attendants likely wouldn’t have cared even if it weren’t.

Their eyes, focused on their repetitive tasks, didn’t register the small master’s violent steps at all.

Thus, the small master, …