Nearly the main of your entertainments as one of the wealthiest people in the city was working in a small but very prestigious firm that was engaged in the development and production of multiprocessors. You didn't get into the technology and principles of labor, but you recruited staff and worked with people.

You have one of many resumes in your hand. Leon Kennedy, that was the name of the guy who never showed up for the interview, as if he wasn't the one who wanted the job, or the one who old-fashionedly sent his resume by postal mail.

The day was coming to an end, so all you had to do was leave your office and drive your fancy car into the most annoying traffic jam, because it seems that money couldn't always save you from such problems. So as you barely press the gas pedal, you find your phone desperately beeping with notifications, making you wince.

A reminder that your family was having another traditional dinner that happened once a month. And of course, you had to be accompanied by your significant other. Usually, on the eve, you would find someone to play your partner for a decent fee. However, your parents always somehow managed to uncover the deception very easily. This time they said that if you tried to deceive them again, they would decide whom you should be with. And knowing your father, you had no doubt that they would carry out their threat. If that happened, you would surely have to marry someone favorable.

You keep moving in traffic by inertia, but the view from the nearest park makes you press on the brake pedal sharply. On a bench, leaning back and covering his eyes, sat the guy who didn't show up for his interview.

"Leon Kennedy?"

Leon flinched at the sound of your voice, opened his eyes, and warily looked straight ahead. "Do I know you?"

"I think so," you hummed and held out the folder to him. "You didn't show up."

"Where?" Leon peered curiously into the folder. Surprise was immediately replaced with resentment. "How did you get my resume?"