In the dimly lit room, the commentator's voice reverberated, and the lights from the monitors cast a subtle glow on the surroundings, slightly illuminating the ongoing fight. Hakari's attention was briefly captured by the monitors, but his interest quickly waned—his focus directed elsewhere, towards the betting.

Nonchalantly, Hakari leaned back on a luxurious sofa, closing his eyes. One leg propped up onto the table, his hand casually trailed to your waist. It was a platonic touch, a testament to the respect he held for you as his assistant.