Hilda pushed open the door and entered the assistant group leader's office, immediately noticing Zhang Yu holding a piece of letter paper, with an expression as if he was constipated.
"Whose letter is it?" He rarely saw Zhang Yu with such an expression.
The acting leader of the assistant group took a light breath, his usual concise tone drawn out a little: "—Our target for protection."
His words were vague, yet it didn't hinder Hilda from understanding what this answer intended to convey.
Because there was only one protection target for the assistant group at the moment.
"Why did he write you a letter? Resigning? Feeling the pressure of studying is too much to bear, doesn't want to be an assistant anymore?"
