33rd Floor (3)

Seymour's face stiffened the moment he saw me.

He looked as if he'd seen a ghost.

His gaze stayed locked on my face, refusing to budge.

“… It really is the Sage. But how…?”

Seymour went on haltingly.

“Fifteen years have passed. And yet you haven’t aged a day. You look exactly as you did back then….”

I scratched my cheek, embarrassed.

Fifteen years. Enough time for an ordinary human to go from middle age to old age.

But my appearance hadn't changed at all since the first time I met Seymour.

From his perspective, it must be shocking...