Ulu strained her neck to stare down at Dyon's fingers. She couldn't believe what had just happened. Did he really not care about the threat of a saint level expert? Why had it ended up like this?
A dull pain throbbed just below Ulu's belly button. Dyon's fingers hadn't pierced her skin, and yet it somehow felt much worse than if he had.
Dyon released Ulu, letting her drop to her knees.
The receptionist trembled in anger. As a man talented enough to become a saint level expert, he too had once ranked highly on the cumulative rankings. He didn't see himself as any inferior than these so-called geniuses, and yet Dyon had disregarded his existence completely. How could he stand for this?