'I wonder what the young man wants to discuss.'
As Maxwell thought this, Frilo squealed, as though replying to him.
Maxwell almost giggled.
'No, Frilo. I don't know if his head will be comfortable.'
Frilo, on Maxwell's hair, let out a flute-like sound as he walked through the hallway, heading to the vice guildmaster's office.
After a while of walking and conversing aimlessly with Frilo, Maxwell finally arrived at the wooden door labeled "Vice-Guildmaster."
Knock– Knock–!
He knocked politely on the door.
Soon enough, a rough, deep voice echoed from the other side of the door, saying:
"Who's there?"
"Vice-Guildmaster. It's Maxwell."
"..."
'He isn't responding?'
"Maxwell? The S-rank?"
"Yes," Maxwell smiled. "Precisely."
"Please, my friend," Spade cleared his throat. "Come in."
Maxwell nodded.
Clack–!
He opened the door and walked in.
The atmosphere in the room was vibrant. The cool breeze immediately swept over Maxwell and Frilo. And the spirit sighed in satisfaction.
