Knock, knock, knock.
The office reverberated with an urgent knock.
A feeble and disinterested voice floated through the air.
"Come in, please."
Lumian turned the doorknob and pushed open the vibrant vermilion door. Before him stood a frail, gaunt young man.
Dressed in a blue shirt, black waistcoat, and somber suit, he stood by the expansive desk, his eyes fixed on the door.
As Tybalt Jacques recognized the visitor to be Bono Goodville, a chuckle escaped the assistant secretary.
"Don't fret. Decay is an unavoidable fate. It afflicts humans and organizations alike. Once the decay sets in, all sorts of troubles will arise…"
Before Tybalt could conclude, he saw Lumian approach. Guard raised, he blurted out,"What do you think you're doing…"
Bam! Lumian threw a punch, accompanied by a blazing crimson flame.
His action cut off Tybalt's words, forcing him to instinctively raise his forearm to block the blow.
