Blake Jing stood in front of the dressing mirror, wearing a simple shirt and armbands on his arms, which were tightly held together. When he deliberately showed a faint expression, an aura of abstinence hit his face.
Looking at the nth set of clothes he was changing into, he finally interrupted everyone who was thinking hard: "Do you think this outfit is similar to the previous one?" They are all beige.
Rimbaud, who had just made a fortune from the Kyuudaime, said seriously: "It's different. There are patterns on the collar of this shirt. Miss clerk, please wrap this one too."
The clerk's smile hasn't faded since Blake Jing and the others entered the store. At first, it was because of the appearance of the four of them, but later she was too generous.
She neatly wrapped up the dress and looked at the dozen packages piled aside with satisfaction, mentally calculating how much commission she could get from this order.
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