"Can it be like this?"
The assistant watched the magical turn of events in amazement.
This was like other invited artists, who cautiously comforted and nurtured Jean Arnou's son, trying every possible way to make up stories to make him happy, even carefully considering their tone of communication, fearing to upset him.
Then there was this Detective Cat lady.
She just rushed in, swinging reality as if it were a slap to the face.
And what happened...?
Did she really manage to wake up this foolish young master a bit?
He glanced sideways at Tony, who was crying nonstop and at the illustration master who was apologizing while showing a look of satisfaction, then looked at the curling tail on the burning screen.
The assistant's jaw almost dropped to the floor.
"Could it be that this guy really got lucky this time and latched onto Jean Arnou's thigh?"
He suddenly thought that sometimes life is absurd.
When led, you won't go, but when beaten, you retreat.
A real masochist.
